


silent as the grave

by orphan_account



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Dysfunctional Family, Kidnapping, Mystery, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:37:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Diego gets involved in trying to break up a drug ring in the city, only to find that Klaus is a little more involved than he initially expected.





	1. blue canary in the outlet by the lightswitch

Diego doesn't know why he's doing this.

There's a lot of better ways he could be spending his Saturday night. Talking Eudora into getting dinner with him. Following actual leads. Getting into a bar fight. Learning to knit. Literally anything other than sitting by himself in his car, staking out an alleyway because he has a vague hope that this scumbag dealer might have some information on a bigger fish Diego's trying to take car of.

Not that this guy isn't a criminal, not that the city won't be better off if Diego gets some evidence to send him to jail, get him off the streets.

But it's very likely a dead end, a waste of time. He's some minor drug dealer, a couple of minor charges on his record but nothing terrible. And he probably doesn't even know anything, or will be too high to remember anything useful when Diego finds him. Still, despite the facts, Diego can't shake this feeling that this guy will be important somehow. Now the last time Diego ignored a gut feeling, he got a bullet in the arm. But then the last time he followed a gut feeling he got kicked out of the police academy. He figures it's a pretty even toss up, why not give following his intuition another chance.

Even after all that debating, he's about to start the car up to deal with some better crimes--maybe something with a little more action than a stakeout--when he spots a familiar face, and it stops him.

"Is that...Klaus?" he asks himself.

Of course it is.

And of course, when Diego follows where Klaus is looking, he spots his guy. One Kevin Sanders. Diego wonders if maybe the oversight is on him; imagining he could try to bust some drug-related crime in the city without his idiot brother getting involved. And here he thought his night would be easy.

Diego gets out of the car.

He lays low as Klaus meets Kevin on the street corner, wondering what the best next step to take would be. He doesn't want to take any action that puts his brother at risk. Not that this Kevin guy looks like he's particularly useful in a fight. But he also doesn't want to wait for Klaus to be walking off with whatever he's buying off this guy, because Diego might not be able to make Klaus sober all the time, but if he can keep him sober for a little while he'll take it as a win.

He decides to just get close enough to eavesdrop, he can make an action plan then.

It's Kevin who's talking when Diego gets into hearing distance, crouching behind a dark red minivan, one hand on the handle of a knife. It sounds like Kevin's trying to persuade Klaus of something, although Diego can't tell what.

"Look man, I'm not telling you what to do," Kevin's saying, with the distinct tone of someone telling you what to do. "I'm just saying you gotta get it soon, 'cause the boss man already ain't too happy with you. I mean, you want  _this_ don't you?"

At that he takes out a little plastic baggie and waves it around, like someone holding bacon bits in front of a dog. It's too dark to see, really, but Diego imagines he doesn't need to see to know what the bag is. Klaus makes half of a motion to grab it before stopping himself, sticking his hands into his coat pockets instead. Diego should probably interrupt now, but Kevin's mentioning his boss, which means maybe if he eavesdrops a little longer Diego can get some of the information he needs without having to let the guy know he's onto him.

From what Diego can see, it looks like Klaus is having trouble focusing on Kevin. His gaze is fixed almost entirely on the bag in Kevin's hand, only returning to the owner of said hand when Kevin stuffs the baggie back into his pocket. "Last time you said--"

"I remember what I said," Kevin interrupts, taking a slight step closer. He sighs softly and says, "Look. I like you, Klaus, okay. I'm your friend."

Fat chance.

Klaus nods, though, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I know. I know you are."

"Good." Kevin mirrors the nod. Diego gets the distinct impression that he doesn't like this guy. "Now, I've got some extra cash lying around. Maybe, because I'm such a good friend, just maybe I could give the boss some of it and say it's from you."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Like I said, I'm your friend. Not for free, though. Y'know, friends do friends favors. I can give him the money, but only in return for some," Kevin steps forward again, reaching a hand out to touch Klaus's wrist. " _Alternative_ payment."

Diego doesn't wait to find out what Klaus's answer would be to that. He unsheathes a blade and throws. A warning throw, one that cuts open the arm Kevin has on Diego's brother before the knife lodges itself in the wall behind them. Reasonably, Kevin jumps backwards, his other hand flying towards the cut to apply pressure. He looks over at the knife in the wall and ducks, frantically looking around for the source of the attack.

Klaus, on the other hand, seems to already know it's Diego. He can tell because Klaus's shoulders just slouch, either disappointment or relief or some fucked up mixture of both, and through the dark Diego thinks he catches an eyeroll.

"Klaus, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Diego asks, popping up from the car he was using for cover and striding closer, momentarily forgetting the dumbass dealer crouching on the floor.

"Business negotiation, duh," Klaus says, sticking his tongue out at Diego like some petulant toddler. Which, come to think of it, was probably a pretty accurate descriptor for most of Klaus's actions. He folds his arms over his chest, probably just as equally cold as annoyed, and adds, "Why, Diego? What are you doing? I mean, besides hurling sharp, pointy objects at my _friends_."

"That dickhead," Diego says, pointing another knife at Kevin. "Is not your friend."

"Yes, he is." This is directed at Diego, Diego has no doubt. The follow up statement he's less sure of, as Klaus turns to face something on the wall next to him when he adds in a harsh whisper, "Shut up! Nobody asked you."

"Klaus. Be quiet. Get in the car, I'll deal with you later," Diego says, nodding his head to indicate where he'd parked his car across the street. He turns to where Kevin is still cowering on the ground. Jeez, a smarter scumbag would've at least tried to run away by now. Diego gestures between himself and Kevin with the knife, telling him, "You and me? We're gonna have a little conversation. Klaus, I would get in the car."

"You can't make me."

"Now!"

"Going," Klaus says. But before he actually does, he steps towards Diego and hugs him. Diego allows it for about half a second before shrugging Klaus off, and Klaus laughs as he walks off.

Diego keeps his eyes on Kevin, seeing him as the bigger risk factor at the moment, but he listens for Klaus's footsteps as he scurries across the street to the car. The asshole probably doesn't even look before crossing. Once Diego hears the car door open and close, he figures he can give this all of his attention. Which is good, because he's finding himself a little more invested in kicking this guy's ass than he was at the start of the night.

Kevin takes one look at the glare Diego's giving him, and his palms fly up in surrender as he scrambles back against the wall. He speaks quicker, and with significantly less confidence than he'd been speaking with when dealing with Klaus. It's kind of pathetic. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't know you knew him. I don't have to--I mean, I won't deal to him anymore, if you want. He ain't even one of my better paying clients, we just keep him around cuz he's pretty. I didn't mean to tell you that. Listen, why don't you put the knife away, we can work this out. What, you want in? I can give you a good deal."

"Don't get me wrong, you fucked up big time," Diego says, crouching down in front of Kevin to look him in the eyes better. "But this has got nothing to do with my brother, and it certainly has nothing to do with me wanting a deal."

"No?" Kevin's eyes flicker to the knife Diego's holding, and then back up to his face. "What...uh, what do you want? Then?"

"Information."

"What about?"

"Your boss."

"Fuck."

The conversation goes a helluva lot better after that, even if it is a little repetitive at first. A few minutes of Diego asking for information, and the little weasel giving a list of excuses as to why he can't answer. Diego finds himself wondering how this Kevin guy can even be walking around so much, considering his chronic lack of a spine. And sure, maybe Diego's a little more harsh than he needs to be because he wants another excuse to deck the dude in the face, but whatever. If it works, it works.

He's not sure exactly how long it takes, but eventually Kevin comes around to the conclusion that Diego is actually more of a threat than his stupid, mysterious boss. A conclusion that Diego supports wholeheartedly. And Kevin spills the proverbial beans. Diego gets a name. Kurt Mallari.

That done, he lets go of the guys shirt collar and lets him fall back to the ground. This is where it being Klaus that Kevin was harassing will come back to haunt him. If Kevin were just a general asshole, Diego may just have given him a warning and let him go with his array of minor, if inconvenient injuries. Instead, Diego gives him a choice. "Here's what gonna happen, Kevin. Are you listening?"

"Yes. Yep."

"Option A, you get back in my car with me, and I'll drop you off at the precinct, where you can turn yourself in," Diego says, idly spinning one of his knives in his hand. "Option B, you don't get in my car. I'll give you a head start so I can put some food in my stupid brother, but then I will hunt you down, probably give you a few more cuts like that one on your arm, and drop you off at the precinct."

"Is there a third option?" Kevin asks, and Diego doesn't even have to answer, just look at him. "I'll go for A, then."

"You bleed on my seats, you die," Diego says, as they start back towards the car.

The only problem is, when he gets into the drivers seat he finds the passenger seat empty. And he knows that Klaus isn't just taking a nap in the back seat, because he just stuffed dumb Kevin into the backseat and it was empty too.

"Hey, uh, isn't Klaus supposed to be here?"

"I don't wanna hear one more word out of you," Diego tells Kevin, reaching into his pocket for his keys to put them in the ignition. He finds his keys, but it's then that he realizes that something else is supposed to be in his pocket that isn't there. His damn wallet. He checks his other pockets quickly just in case, and when he doesn't find it in any of them he slams his head back against the headrest of his chair. "Dammit, Klaus."

When Diego finds his brother, he's going to kill him.

But first he has to get rid of the douche in the backseat. As he starts the car back up again, he finds himself really wishing he'd just gone to dinner with Eudora tonight instead. Better yet, if she knew how to have more fun, she could be in the passenger seat right now.

Diego drops Kevin off at the nearest precinct as promised, waiting in the car and watching him go up the steps and inside. He waits an extra few minutes after the guy's disappeared through the front doors just to make sure he actually turns himself in, and doesn't slip out once Diego's driven away. Once he's secure in the knowledge that a) Kevin is off the streets, and b) Kevin can't alert his boss that Diego is on to him, Diego starts down the road in search of his brother and, more importantly, his wallet. He kind of really needs that.

It's two and half hours, ten alleys, and three all night diners later that Diego finally finds the fucker. In a Waffle House. He decides not to kill him. For now.

Klaus is sitting in a booth in the corner, resting his chin on the table with his arms folder in front of him. There's a cup of coffee there, but it looks like he's breathing in the steam more than actually drinking it. It looks like he's saying something, but whatever it is, it's a low enough whisper that Diego can't hear it from the front door of the Waffle House.

He doesn't even notice Diego until Diego sits down right in front of him.

"Oh," Klaus says, looking up for a second before turning his gaze back to the coffee cup in front of him. Mesmerized, for some reason, by the slight steam drifting up from the mug. Diego guesses he found something else to get high off, after Diego high-jacked him. "Hi Diego."

"Yeah, hi."

Klaus raises an eyebrow at him. "Diego, did you kill Kevin?"

"Not yet."

Klaus breathes out a laugh under his breath, shaking his head ever so slightly. It's cute he thinks Diego's joking. After a moment's consideration Klaus adds, still chuckling, "He's not gonna answer my text next time, is he?"

"No, probably not," Diego says. "Are you gonna give me my wallet back, or do I have to take it?"

Klaus reaches a hand into his pockets to dig around for the wallet, but not before blowing a raspberry at Diego. Then he slaps the wallet down onto the table and slides it across to Diego as he grumbles, "Not enough cash for pancakes anyway."

"That why you're drinking coffee?"

"It's so warm," Klaus says, closing his eyes and taking a deep whiff of the coffee. Diego rolls his eyes as he puts his wallet back into his own pocket. "And I'm so cold."

He's about to get up again, leave Klaus to his stolen coffee, when he remembers what was in his wallet this morning. "Pancakes are like three bucks, what d'you mean there's not enough cash?"

"Kevin's not the only one you know, I know," Klaus says. Then he frowns and looks up at the ceiling. "You don't know. I know, y'know. That's what I meant."

"What the hell are you saying? You know what, never mind. I put your dealer in jail so you get payback by buying drugs with my money, huh?"

"It's poetic."

"I should kick your ass."

"You won't," Klaus lilts.

At least for the moment, he's right. Luther, Diego is perfectly willing to fight. He's done it before and he'll do it again; Luther's considerably less fragile, and a pompous dickhead to boot. But Diego's patience has wider limits when it comes to Klaus. Yes, he's wildly annoying, he never shuts up, and he steals Diego's wallet. But he's also so damn skinny, if Diego were to punch him he might just shatter like glass. Still, Diego thinks if he has to deal with this much longer he might just do it. Not a hard punch, but like, definitely a punch.

Klaus sits up and moves to lean against the window instead, then sits back up again, murmuring something about the glass being cold. Then he looks over at Diego and says, "I wasn't gonna do it."

It takes Diego a second to figure out what Klaus means. Then he nods and says, "Yeah, you bet--"

"Before he gave me the bag!" Klaus says, laughing. "I mean, if you're gonna get paid, get paid upfront. Am I right?"

"Can you," Diego starts, cutting himself off when he realizes he's a little louder than he means to be. Taking in a deep breath and then letting it out in a heavy sigh, he says more calmly, if still terse, "Can you be serious for five seconds?"

"Oh, I am," Klaus tells him, nodding slowly. There's a somber look on his face for a whole two seconds, and then he can't hold it anymore and bursts into a fit of giggling. "I mean it, bro. If you don't get paid upfront you get gyped."

"Please tell me that's not something you regularly do, Klaus."

"I'm pleading the sixth."

"Fifth?"

"Probably around there, I haven't counted."

"What are you--I'm gonna stop trying to figure out what you're saying," Diego says. He picks up Klaus's coffee off of the table and takes a sip of it. It was his wallet that paid for the drink anyway. It doesn't taste half as good as it smells. He sets the mug back down and narrows his eyes at Klaus, wondering if he's sober enough to have some semblance of a conversation with. Probably not, but it's worth a try. "Klaus, what do you know about Kevin's boss?"

With a snort, Klaus answers, "I owe him money."

That can't be good. But then, it never is.

When Diego doesn't answer immediately, Klaus decides to fill the silence himself. "Last year, he left bleach in his hair too long and turned it green. People aren't supposed to know that. It kind of suited him though, brought out his eyes..."

"Do you have anything a little more...I dunno, helpful?"

Klaus shrugs.

Sighing once more, Diego moves to get up again. Maybe he can make this night a more productive one, he'll ask Klaus about Kurt again later. But he only gets halfway up before Klaus stops him, grabbing his elbow to get his attention. When Diego looks back to him, Klaus asks, "Is Kevin my friend?"

"No."

"Oh." Klaus frowns, looking back down at the coffee. Diego wonders what he's on. After a second he looks back up at Diego and asks, "Will you sit? So I'm not alone. Just for a bit?"

Diego glances at his brother, and then to the door, then back to his brother. Klaus always seems kind of small and lost, and maybe it's the lighting, but right now that just seems more noticeable than usual. He seems...worried. Or like he would be worried, if he was capable of rational thought at the moment. It's possible he just doesn't want to be alone.

Diego relents and drops back into the diner booth. Babysitting for the night it is. "Guess I could watch over you for a bit."

"Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch…"


	2. we need to talk about kevin

Diego isn't sure how "I'll sit with you for a bit," turns into "Come on, you can crash on my couch. Just for tonight," but when he wakes up in his one bedroom apartment the next morning it's to the smell of eggs cooking, and the distinct sound of Klaus talking to himself in the kitchen.

It's almost nice. Forgetting that Klaus stole his wallet for drugs last night, and probably can't cook to save his life; it feels almost normal. To wake up not in an empty house, with someone around cooking breakfast. Every now and then, they used to try and help Mom cook breakfast. Diego thinks eggs were actually the only thing simple enough for the boys to be able to master. Their time wasn't exactly dedicated to learning normal household chores, in their defense. It's while he's reminiscing about this that he remembers teenage Klaus never could get the hang of cooking eggs without starting a fire, and suddenly Diego's wide awake, without even needing coffee.

He half-jogs into the kitchen, and when he doesn't see any immediate signs of disaster he comes to a halt in the doorway, sighing softly. Klaus looks up and greets him with an almost warm smile. With a grin he announces, "Eggs."

"I can see that," Diego says, stepping into the kitchen. It looks like he's scrambling them, which is only weird because, as far back as Diego can remember, Klaus has always preferred fried. He's about to question it, when he notices there's a plate on he counter set aside that does have fried eggs on it. Raising an eyebrow, Diego asks, "You're cooking me breakfast?"

"Excellent deduction, detective," Klaus answers. It's sarcastic, yes, but there's little bite behind it.

Diego squints at Klaus for a second, looking at the eggs he's cooking and then back up at him. He'll be the first to admit, he's a little suspicious of this. He's not entirely sure how anything works in regular families, but the Hargreeves kids don't do things like cook for each other; they do things like stealing each other's wallets. After being silently suspicious of his brother for a few more seconds, Diego leans against one of the cabinets and asks, "Are you sober?"

"Well I poured some of your tequila into this coffee," Klaus says, picking a mug up off the counter and taking a sip before setting it back down. "But otherwise, yeah."

"Good, we need to talk," Diego says, ignoring the coffee remark. Klaus answers with an over dramatic groan, which at least confirms that this person cooking eggs in his apartment is actually his brother and not some weird clone. He clears his throat and continues, "If you think you can focus a little better, I've got some questions for you about that Kevin guy and his boss."

Klaus gasps, as if suddenly realizing something, and his hands fly up to cover his mouth as he turns to look at Diego with wide eyes. "Oh that's right, you killed Kevin!"

"Will you--I told you I didn't kill Kevin," Diego says, resisting the urge to facepalm. "I just talked to him, and told him to turn himself in. Guy's probably in lockup right now."

"He told you about Kurt?" Klaus asks.

"Yeah, a little."

"He's good as dead," Klaus says, shrugging dismissively and turning back to the eggs and pushing them around a little with the spatula. It was definitely a comforting comment to hear about the guy his brother owes money to, yeah. "Salt and pepper?"

"To your left."

"Thank you."

"How'd you get mixed up with these guys, anyway?" Klaus just raises an eyebrow at that, and Diego nods. That's fair, it was a stupid question. He already knows how Klaus knows them, he's just wondering for how long, and how well. He's not thrilled that his idiot brother is involved in all this, but he figures he might at least get the plus of having an inside man. Diego amends, "What can you tell me about them?"

Klaus frowns in thought, looking up at the ceiling momentarily before nodding and turning to Diego. Diego should've known before Klaus opened his mouth it wouldn't be anything useful. "Kevin can fit his whole fist in his mouth."

"Something more relevant, maybe?"

"It is relevant! But I still haven't figured out if he has little hands or a big mouth..." Klaus trails off, reaching for his coffee once again. He pulls a face after he sips it, shaking his head and replacing the mug on the counter. "What kinda coffee are you drinking, man? This stuff is crap."

"Klaus. Focus."

"Right. Here's the thing, Diego. I can't tell you anything," Klaus says, and Diego opens his mouth to tell him off--call him a coward or disloyal or something along those lines, he figures it's fair. Klaus did steal his wallet. (Diego won't be letting that go anytime soon, he already knows.) But before he can say anything, Klaus holds up an index finger to silence him and continues, "I can't tell you anything because I don't  _know_ anything. Like, at all. We're all friends, and I buy from them, but I'm not part of their...operation or whatever. They don't tell me shit, I'm more like their mascot."

Again, Diego opens his mouth to tell him off. This time he stops himself, realizing that's probably accurate. But he still got the feeling Klaus wasn't telling him everything. For example, "But you owe him money?"

Klaus laughs. "Yeah, I do."

"How much? What for?"

"Why's it matter?"

"I want to know things, Klaus," Diego says simply. "I'm going after your douchebag friend, and I'm gonna put his bleach blonde ass in jail. And I don't wanna overlook a single detail that could help me do that, so if I ask you a question just answer it."

Instead, Klaus just looks at Diego in awe and asks, "How'd you know he bleaches his hair?"

"Klaus!"

"Okay, okay, jeez. Let's see, what for...Right, thank you," he says, this last part directed at the dining room table. Diego decides it's best not to question. Klaus looks at Diego as he pushes himself up to sit on Diego's counter and says, "I may or may not have stolen...some things...from them. Liberated, really."

Diego puts his hands on his hips, looking down at the floor for a second as he asks, "You stole drugs from one of the cities most dangerous drug lords?"

"Well when you put it that way, it sounds so irresponsible."

"That's because it is, Klaus! He's my prime suspect for a homicide," Diego snaps. Actually, more than one. Diego's connected him to a series of killings across the city, and who knows how many more will come to light when he digs deeper. It's not a good image in his head, realizing that one of those bodies could have very easily been his own obnoxious brother. No, if anyone's killing Klaus in this town it'll be Diego. He huffs out an angry breath and says, "What happens when you can't come up with the money, huh, Klaus?"

"I will."

"You won't."

"Yes!"

"No! You won't," Diego says firmly, and Klaus rolls his eyes. He must know he has no way to come up with whatever he owes Kurt. Diego doesn't know what he was thinking when he stole that stuff--stealing from your family was one thing, you at least know they won't break both your legs or murder you for it. A leader of a ring of organized crime, on the hand? Well that was a whole different story. Diego sighs again. He doesn't know what Klaus was thinking. "I don't know what you were thinking."

"I can tell you," Klaus says with a smile, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I was thinking, 'Man, I wish I was high right now. But I have no money.' And then I was thinking, 'Well no one's watching this room' and then after that, 'Man, I'm so high right now.'"

"This isn't funny, Klaus."

"It's a little funny."

"Is there  _anything_ helpful you can tell me about these guys? Anything at all. Where can I find him?"

Klaus shrugs as he picks his coffee mug back up. "Never had to know the address, not like I drive myself there."

Diego just shakes his head as he turns to head back into his room, he can get dressed and go find a witness that might have some useful information. He gets a few steps towards the doorway before he stops, turning around momentarily to tell Klaus, "By the way? I don't have any tequila, what you're drinking is vegetable oil. And the eggs are burning."

As he makes his way out of the kitchen, he hears Klaus murmuring a string of swears behind him. Then he hears the switch of the stove being turned off, followed by the sound of a liquid being poured down the sink.

Diego suppresses a laugh as he shuts the door to his room.

By the time he reemerges from his room in fresh clothes, his brother is gone from the apartment. There're only the dirty dishes on the stovetop and the blanket on the floor by the couch to even show that Klaus was ever there. Normally, Diego wouldn't even think about it. Today he finds himself wondering whether or not he should go find Klaus; he doesn't think Klaus is entirely able to protect himself if Kurt decides to collect on what Klaus owes him, and he doubts that Klaus has somewhere safe to lay low until Diego can lock the bastard up.

Diego decides not to follow Klaus. He got himself into this mess, he can keep himself out until Diego's able to clean it up.

Instead, he gets in a car and heads down to the coffee shop across the street from the precinct. He stops outside to check through the window, looking for someone specific. She's waiting at the end of the bar for a drink; a large mocha with an add shot and extra whipped cream, he doesn't need to see the cup to know.

Diego hesitates for a split second before opening the door and ducking into the shop.

"Officer Patch," he greets her with a grin, leaning against the bar next to her.

"We got your present last night," Eudora says, keeping her gaze straight ahead. He figures it's probably to keep him from seeing the smile she's trying to hide, nut if it is it doesn't work. "He didn't mention you, but I imagine you sent him, right?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny..."

"Shut up," Eudora cuts him off with a laugh, finally turning to look at him. "Your kicking this Kevin guy's ass wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that homicide you promised to stay out of, would it?"

"I don't think I promised to stay out of it," Diego says, pulling a skeptical face. "I think you told me to stay out of it, and I said the exact words 'No promises.' Which is...kind of the opposite of me promising to stay out of it."

"You're right, that was wishful thinking." Eudora sighs, turning back around when the barista places a cardboard tray with five drinks on it down on the bar. She offers a polite thank you as she picks up the tray, then starts towards the front door. Diego follows after her, although she only rolls he eyes at him when he holds the door for her. "Look, Diego. The precinct doesn't need your help on this one. We've got it."

"That's what you always say, and yet--"

"And yet," she interrupts with a pointed look. "Here you are, getting involved anyway."

"Bet I can catch the guy before you do."

"Diego Hargreeves, you are on," Eudora says, and she has that driven look in her eyes that originally drew Diego towards her on their first what at the police academy. She stops walking to turn and look at him. After a second's consideration she smirks at him and adds, "Loser buys dinner?"

"Loser buys dinner," he repeats, nodding. She shifts the coffee tray so she can hold it with one hand, holding her now free hand out towards Diego with her pinky up. Suppressing an amused grin, Diego raises an eyebrow at her, looking down at her hand and then back up at her. God, she's adorable. He says, "We're doing pinky promises, now?"

"Unless you're too scared..."

Diego chuckles, sticking his own hand out and interlocking his pinky with hers. He looks her in the eye, that mischievous glint on her face, and tells her just so she knows, "I'm not scared of anything."

"Good." She pulls him forward by the pinky, and once he's close enough she presses a quick kiss to his cheek. She laughs as she pulls away, not even giving him an opportunity to return the gesture before starting towards the crosswalk on the corner, a contagious smile on her face as she walks. "I'm gonna be late for work. I'll call you tonight, okay, Diego?"

"I'll hold you to that."

"I'm counting on it," Eudora answers, shooting him one last look over her shoulder before crossing the street towards the precinct steps.

* * *

It's not until much later that afternoon that Diego even thinks about Klaus again; he's been keeping too busy looking for leads and digging up more information on that Kurt Mallari asshole to worry about what his brother is getting up to. Which, to be fair, isn't that different from any other day. In fact, on the particularly good days, Diego can go from sun up to sun down without thinking about his family at all. It's really wonderful.

When he does find Klaus again, he gets a kind of deja vu.

It's broad daylight this time, but again Klaus is standing in a grimy old alleyway with some shady looking guy. Diego resists the urge to slam his forehead into the steering wheel of his car as he pulls over to park, heading over to ruin Klaus's day again. It's like herding cats, if the cats wore too much guyliner and stole your wallet after you did them a damn favor--no, he still hasn't let that go.

Klaus is leaning forward to kiss the guy when he notices Diego over the guy's shoulder, and his immediate reaction is to swear loud enough that the dude he's talking to kind of jumps. Then Diego hears him telling the guy, "I'm sorry about this."

"Sorry about what?"

"This," Diego says from behind him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and yanking him backwards. He sizes the stranger up, he's shorter than Diego but has the build of someone who spends too much time in the gym in place of an actual social life (not that Diego really gets to judge on that one.) If it comes down to it, Diego can definitely kick the guy's ass, but it won't be as easy as dealing with Kevin was. "Talk to me about Mallari."

"Diego," Klaus interjects.

"Klaus, what the hell is this guy talking about?"

Diego snaps his fingers at the guy, telling him, "Don't talk to Klaus, talk to me."

"Diego."

"Tell me what I wanna know, and--"

"Diego!"

"What, Klaus?" Diego snaps, looking over his shoulder to glare at his brother. "What is it?"

Klaus opens his mouth to say something, then rethinks it and starts over. He seems torn between amusement and concern for the guy Diego was just trying to threaten, but it looks like he's leaning more towards amusement. "He's, uh. He's not a dealer, he's just hot."

Diego blinks at him. "What?"

"You do know I have a sex life outside of Kevin, right?"

"Who the hell is Kevin?" The other guy asks, because that should really be his main concern right now.

"Get out of here," Diego tells him, making a similar shooing gesture as you would to an annoying stray.

Before turning to go, the guy looks at Klaus and says, "Call me?"

Klaus winks at him.

"Go," Diego says again, and the guy nods before sprinting off down the sidewalk. Moron. Diego turns back to Klaus, who's silently giggling to himself, and Diego's not sure if he's mad because he threatened a guy who wasn't involved in the case--he won't say innocent, he knows Klaus so he can't be one hundred percent guilt free. But not involved in this, at least--or if he's mad because the guy wasn't involved, which means Diego doesn't have a possible new informant yet. He smacks Klaus in the shoulder and says, "Stop laughing."

"I'll stop laughing when it stops being funny," Klaus tells him. 

"You're an asshole."

The insult just seems to make Klaus laugh even harder, admittedly not the effect he was hoping for. Diego clenches his fists at his sides, although he has no intentions of actually hitting Klaus, then steps forward and grabs him by the elbow, pulling him back towards the car. Klaus allows himself to be dragged with little to no complaint, simply asking, "We going somewhere?"

"Yeah, we're going for a car ride," Diego says, opening the passenger side door for Klaus.

Shrugging his shoulders, Klaus gets into the car, buckling up the seatbelt. Once Diego's walked around and gotten into the driver seat, Klaus drums his hands on his thighs and asks, "Where to? Chipotle? Movie theater? Chipotle?"

"Rehab," Diego says, starting the engine.

"What? No, c'mon!"

"You have a problem, Klaus."

"I told you that wasn't a dealer! Mikey doesn't even drink."

"It's not about him, I can't trust  _you_. And as long as you owe Mallari money, and he's still on the streets, you're in danger. Not to mention getting in my way," Diego says, which might sound a little harsh but it's true. He can't give this all of his attention if he has to worry about his suspect hiring a hitman to get rid of Klaus or something. And if Klaus is out there getting high with Diego's leads, not only does Diego then have to worry about protecting his brother when he confronts them, but he has to worry about Klaus accidentally letting something slip and letting them know Diego's onto them. It's better for everyone to get Klaus off the streets. "You'll be safer in rehab."

"Well what makes you think rehab is so safe? If it's my safety you're worried about, doesn't being stuck in rehab make me a squatting duck?"

"It's sitting duck. It makes you a sitting duck."

"So you agree!"

"No I don't! Klaus, you're going to rehab because, at the very least, it's the last place that anyone who knows you would think to look for you," Diego says. Which even Klaus can't argue with, although no doubt he'll try to.

He honestly doesn't hold out any hope that signing his brother into a rehab program will actually help him get sober, he knows Klaus better than that. When Klaus is ready to quit, if he ever is, he's going to have to do it on his own terms. Neither Diego nor anyone else can make him, that's just not how it works. But signing him into rehab will get him off the streets, and then Diego can finally stop worrying about him and get some shit done.

"Hey, I have an idea," Klaus says, prodding Diego's shoulder. "I'll promise not to talk to anyone who works for Kurt, and then you won't have to worry about me getting in the way, so you won't have to send me to rehab."

"That still leaves you both high and in danger."

"Yeah, but doing both of those out of your hair, so why d'you give a shit?"

Of course Diego gives a shit. Annoying or no, Klaus is still his family. Diego spends a majority of his time putting away criminals so that complete strangers aren't in danger, of course he doesn't want  _his brother_ to be at risk. He might not be the best at showing it, sure, but he resents the implication that he doesn't care. Which is a trap, because now he's too busy being resentful to want to take the time to tell Klaus he does care. So instead he finds himself saying, "Because you can say you'll stay away from Kurt's guys, but c'mon Klaus, an addict's word isn't exactly reliable."

"Oh, fuck you," Klaus says, slumping lower in his seat. Diego glances at him out of the corner of his eye and decides to switch on the child lock on the doors, he wouldn't put it past Klaus to try to make a break for it when they roll up to a red light or a stop sign. He sits in beautiful, if moody, silence for all of two seconds. It's the best two seconds ever. But they're ruined as he clasps both of his hands together and turns to Diego whining, "Please! You don't wanna take me to rehab! It's a waste of your time. Just drop me off here, or anywhere. I'll stay out of your way."

"You won't."

"I will!"

"Won't."

"Will!"

"You won't."

"I will, promise."

Diego switches on his turn signal and hopes that maybe if he stops answering Klaus will stop arguing. It's never worked before, but there's a first time for everything, right?

For a little while, it actually does work. They drive in silence, aside from the radio station which is playing the Beach Boys for some reason.  _Good Vibrations_ isn't exactly a match for Diego's day so far, and if the radio in his car wasn't busted he would change the station. Klaus's legs are bouncing up and down fast enough that the car slightly bounces, and Diego thinks about telling him to knock it off before deciding to take the win that is Klaus not talking, and let him bounce his legs. Whatever keeps him quiet keeps Diego sane.

It's not until Diego pulls into a parking space that Klaus opens his mouth again. "What if I wasn't the mascot?"

"What does that mean?"

"Y'know, earlier I said I couldn't tell you anything."

"Because you were the mascot, yeah..." Diego says, nodding as he remembers the morning's conversation. It squints at Klaus momentarily as he realizes what Klaus is trying to say, and wonders why it took parking in front of rehab for the asshole to say something. "Oh my god, Klaus if you were lying about knowing anything earlier I swear to god."

"I wasn't lying per se," Klaus says slowly. It's a tone reserved for when he either doesn't want to tell someone something, or is buying time to think of a better lie. For the sake of information, Diego is willing to believe that it's the first option until he has more evidence to think it's not. "They don't tell me shit, but that doesn't mean I haven't overheard a thing or two y'know, not meant for my ears."

Diego shakes his head. "Klaus, if I find out you're lying to me you're ass will be in rehab so fast--"

"I'm not, I'm not!" He puts his palms up in mock surrender, shifting in the car seat to tuck one leg underneath him. Then he raises his eyebrows at Diego, that god damn puppy dog face that Diego never could master, and asks, "But if I can be useful to I have to go to rehab?"

And realistically, Diego knows that useful or no, Klaus should be in rehab. Even when he's not getting in the way of Diego's case, he has a serious problem and he needs help. And Diego's a bad brother, because he either cares less about that than he does working this case, or doesn't believe Klaus can be helped, and either one is pretty shit. He should tell Klaus being useful doesn't matter if he's hurting himself. He should tell him he does care.

Instead, he finds himself letting go of a heavy breath and starting the car back up again. "Fine. I'll buy you some dinner, tell me everything."


	3. spilling the beans

"Fine. I'll buy you some dinner, tell me everything."

"Well it all started on a rainy Saturday night...or wait, was it Tuesday? Was it raining?...It all started on a night," Klaus says, nodding slowly. Diego isn't a sure if Klaus is stalling to avoid telling him shit, or just being his usual harmless dumbass self. He supposes it could be both. "Y'know, come to think of it, it might have been the afternoon."

"Klaus," Diego says, clapping his hands at him. "Don't tell me everything. Just tell me everything  _relevant."_

"Did you not just tell me this morning that you didn't wanna overlook any details?"

Forget it. Forget dinner, forget the case, forget rehab. Diego's just going to drive his car directly off of a bridge, into the nearest river.

"Know what? Let's talk at the restaurant." He could use the time to work on breathing exercises or something. He's going to need more patience than he's currently equipped with if he wants to get any useful information out of Klaus. At least with the other witnesses he can beat them up when they don't cooperate.

After extensive bickering on the subject, Diego finally just relents and agrees to take Klaus to Chipotle. Klaus spends the entire drive messing with the radio; changing the station, turning the volume up and down, either singing along to the songs or "dancing" to them.

When they finally pull into the parking lot, Klaus says, "Y'know, I actually think I'm craving burgers."

Whoever said patience is a virtue clearly never spent five minutes with Diego's brothers.

"Stop stalling, get out of the car," Diego says, unbuckling his seatbelt and then leaning over to unbuckle Klaus's as well when Klaus doesn't move to.

Luckily, the place is relatively quiet.

Once they have their food in front of them and are seated comfortably in a booth in the corner, the one furthest from any of the other tables with people at them, it's time to actually talk. Or, that's Diego's plan, at least. If he should be so lucky.

Diego leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest and momentarily silently watching Klaus eat. He doesn't think even Klaus could actually be that focussed on a burrito. After a second or two, Diego clears his throat and asks, "So, Klaus. I think you had something you wanted to tell me."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that. Spill the beans."

"That would ruin my burrito." Klaus grins half heartedly then sets down his paper cup of lemonade back on the table, and frowns in momentary thought. It might just be the first time Diego's seen him think before speaking. He says, "So I wasn't lying earlier about knowing where he is, I have no fucking clue."

He chuckles at that until Diego gives him a look, and then sighs and stops laughing. He holds up an index finger and continues, "But I was lying about...something."

"Is that supposed to make me less pissed?"

"I was hoping," Klaus says. He glances at something on the wall just above Diego's shoulder, pulling an irritable squinty sort of face before turning back to Diego as if nothing had happened. "Anway, I'm telling you  _now,_ so you can't be mad at me. That's the law."

"Pretty sure that's not a law."

"What would you know, you're not a real cop," Klaus scoffs, waving a hand as if waving the idea away.

If Diego didn't need Klaus right now he might get up and walk away for that. Instead he settles for another angry glare--once Mom told him his face might get stuck that way. That was when he was...eleven? Glaring at Luther for something. At the time, he thought he knew she was kidding, trying to make him smile. Now he wonders if she's right.

Klaus picks his lemonade back up and, around the straw, says in a mumble almost too low to hear, "I might know about your murder."

"What?" Briefly forgetting their current setting, Diego shouts. Then he realizes, and as if it would fix it somehow, leans forward and says in an angry whisper, "What?"

"What?"

"What do you know, exactly?"

"It was a girl, right? Sarah or uh...Samantha? No, that's a ridiculous name."

"Sasha?"

"Sasha!" Klaus snaps his fingers and points enthusiastically at Diego. "That's the one."

"Wait, has she...can you talk to her?"

He's not sure what he wants the answer to be on that one. If Klaus can talk to her, it would make Diego finding Kurt and kicking his teeth in that much easier. But for the precinct to convict the douchebag when Diego brings him in, they need evidence. Klaus isn't exactly a reliable witness at the best of times, but the whole "I can see dead people but no one else can" shit won't pass in court. No one could verify what the ghosts were saying.

Klaus shakes his head, and laughs. "No, no, no, no. I just know...of her...We were friends. Kind of."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, man," Diego says, and means it.

"Well anyway," Klaus says, and leaves it at that. Then he adds, "That wasn't my lie though. My lie was what...well, it was what I stole. Commandeered. On accident!"

This...can't be good. Diego pinches the bridge of his nose and asks, "What dumbass stunt did you pull this time?"

"It was in the bag! I didn't know!" Klaus says, following this up by turning to the same spot over Diego's shoulder and adding, "You could've told me...What d'you mean do the right thing with it? Shut up."

"Earth to Klaus," Diego snaps at his brother, raising his eyebrows when Klaus finally turns his attention back to him. "What bag? What did you take?"

"Well I needed a bag to put all the coke in," Klaus says, laughing like it's funny. Very far from it. He's still laughing when he says, "What I didn't know what old Kurt kept the murder weapon in that bag. It has a secret pocket, did you know bags have secret pockets outside of spy movies?"

Diego can't believe it. "You have the murder weapon? You didn't touch it, did you?"

"Well no, and no," Klaus says.

"What d'you mean no?"

"It usually means not yes. More stern than maybe, though."

"Where's the weapon, Klaus? And if they're so mad you stole the damn thing, how come I didn't hear Kevin mention it once?"

"Kev doesn't know. Everyone loves Sasha, Kurt didn't want anyone to know he killed her," Klaus says. Which makes sense, in a way. And it almost seems reasonable, if only it wasn't delivered around a mouthful of burrito. "But he wants the knife, and y'know, also the money."

"Okay, so where is the knife now? If no one touched it, it should still have Kurt's prints on it. The cops can use that to convict him." Klaus doesn't even need to answer that out loud, the wince does all the talking for him. Diego tries to keep his voice calm when saying, "You lost the knife."

"Not lost per se--"

Diego is rather unsuccessful in keeping his voice calm when saying, "God dammit Klaus."

"Hey! My friend killed my other friend. I was grieving, and high as the moon, and I didn't want to go back to jail because the cops thought I killed her," Klaus at least has the sense to whisper all of this. 

Diego blinks. "Back to jail?"

"Did I say back? I meant, y'know, to. I didn't wanna go to jail, that's what I said," Klaus says, nodding. He reaches for the lemonade again, spending a long few seconds using his straw to make that obnoxious noise it makes when the cup is empty while Diego watches him, stone faced and unblinking.

Eventually, Diego reaches across the table and snatches the cup out of Klaus's hands, throwing it halfway across the room into the trashcan against the wall there.

Largely unphased, Klaus says with some disappointment, "I was drinking that."

"Tell me something, okay," Diego says, folding his arms in front of him on the table. Klaus seems hesitant, but he nods nonetheless. "Kurt murdered your friend. You're a witness, have the murder weapon and information that can help lock Kurt up, and are in danger."

"I don't have the...Was there a question there I missed?"

"Why the  _hell_ did I take me threatening to drop you off at rehab for you to tell me any of that?"

"You're basically a cop, bro," Klaus says, as if the answer is obvious. Once he points this out, it kind of is, which is infuriating. "If it got out I talked to you..."

"No one would deal to you."

"Exactly! See, you get it!"

"You are un-fucking-believable, you know that, Klaus?"

Diego ignored whatever answer Klaus gives him, getting up out of the booth and heading for the door. He doesn't care about the murder weapon, or anything else Klaus has to say to him right now. Not doing what you can for a murdered friend because you're scared no one will sell you drugs? That's a new damn low.

In the back of his mind he knows there's more Klaus isn't telling him, more to the story. Why is Sasha dead? Where is Klaus keeping the weapon? Why does Kurt care so much--Sasha isn't his first kill, he should know better than to leave prints on a blade, and he should know better than to leave it in a room Klaus, or any other person, had access to.

He also knows he shouldn't leave his brother alone in there, when there's a drug lord/killer/dickhead out there, pissed at him.

It's this thought, and this thought only, that makes Diego stop at his car door and wait when Klaus comes half-jogging out of the restaurant after him, carrying the last half of his burrito. He unlocks the car and gets in without a word, and when Klaus does the same, he starts the engine.

"I'm taking you to the precinct," he says, which shouldn't leave room for discussion and yet.

"No, no. Ha, no. I'm innocent...kind of."

"Not like that," Diego says, shaking his head. "I have a friend there, she'll keep you safe until I can get Kurt."

"Yeah, safely behind bars. No, thank you."

"This is not a discussion."

"Yet, we're discussing!"

Diego turns to give Klaus another frustrated look; because that totally works. "You put yourself in danger like a dumbass, and I'm gonna get you out of it, because I'm an awesome brother. But to do that, I need to know you're out of the way. Try not to steal from the cops, while you're there."

"That's not--Diego, watch out!"

Klaus points towards the windshield frabtcially, and Diego turns to see what it is only to spot a black truck hurtling towards them. Forget that they're on a one way road, and they shouldn't have anyone even going that way. Diego doesn't have time to think, he just swerves to avoid a collision.

Not quite fast enough, he swerves directly into a streetlight and the truck still ends up slamming into the back half his car.

Somewhere in his brain is a thought to ask Klaus if he's okay, but before he can get the words out everything fades to black.


	4. bury the hatchet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'know when i first started writing this i expected like two comments total. i'm new to writing fanfic, and i had no idea the people on this site were so kind XD
> 
> anyway, thanks everyone for all the comments, hope u like this next chapter!!

Diego's only out for a second or so. When he opens his eyes again there's a sticky, warm glob of blood keeping him from opening the left one all the way. He thinks he hit his head on the steering wheel, but he can't figure out why the airbag hasn't gone off.

"Klaus?" Diego asks, keeping his gaze on the truck that hit them through the rearview mirror.

The truck driver is making her way over to the window, and though she's short and wearing a baby pink sweater, Diego gets ready to either cuss her out for reckless driving, or go for one of his knives on the chance this crash wasn't an accident. He doesn't recognize her, he hopes it's the first one.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Her voice reaches him through the glass of his window, intact but for the spiders web cracks running along it. "I'm so sorry!"

She seems genuine enough.

Diego sits back to unbuckle his seatbelt, turns to see if Klaus is hurt. He's being oddly silent.

Now it makes sense. He's silent because he's...not there? Diego stares at the empty passenger seat for--well he's not keeping track--in some sort mix between panic and confusion when he sees that the seatbelt is unbuckled. And there's a hole in the windshield.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," is all Diego can really seem to say as he scrambles to get out of the car, fumbling with the door handle and then nearly stumbling over when he gets out.

The stranger catches him, a hand on his shoulder. "Whoah, you're hurt, slow down."

Diego doesn't answer, he just pushes away from her, scanning the area for Klaus. He spots him on a pile of trash bags on the sidewalk not too far away. Far enough Diego can't tell if he's hurt or not. Maybe the trash softened the impact? Who is he kidding, he has to get closer.

He loses balance with the next step he takes, and the woman has to catch him again. "Hey, hey, take it easy."

"That's my brother," Diego says uselessly, trying to move past her to get to Klaus but she blocks him. Running a thumb over his eyebrow, wiping some of the blood away. He snaps, "I'm fine, he needs my help."

"You don't know the half of it," she says, and Diego feels a slight pinch in his shoulder where she'd been supporting him.

He turns to see what it is, and in his defense, given what's probably in it, he would've ended up passing out whether or not he saw the needle she was pulling out of his arm.

* * *

The second time Diego wakes up it's sitting up in a wooden chair. His first thought is "Where's Klaus?" and it's one that he gets the answer to relatively quickly; all ot really takes is the few seconds his eyes need to adjust to the darkness.

They're both tied to wooden chairs, about six feet across from each other.

His next thought is if Klaus is okay, this one takes a little longer to answer.

It's too dark for him to see all that well, but as far as he can tell, Klaus has a cut on his forehead similar to the one Diego got on his eyebrow in the crash. A bruise on his cheek. Otherwise, visibly, he seems fine. But Diego can't tell if Klaus got any internal injuries in the crash, and he won't know until he can get them out of here and to a damn hospital.

Speaking of, where is here?

Diego looks around, as far as his position in the chair will allow him, to take in their surroundings.

They're alone, for the time being. Two windows, boarded up. Some sort of graffiti on the walls, Diego can't quite make it out but he doubts it's worth the effort in trying to. One door, no lock as far as he can see. There're a few piles of blanket and pillows in the corners, but otherwise the room is entirely empty. He needs to talk with their interior decorator.

"Klaus," Diego whispers, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to his brother. "Klaus, wake up."

No answer.

Typical, the one time Diego  _wants_ Klaus to say something, the guy won't do it. No, he's gotta be unconscious. Asshole.

He turns his attention to the knots keeping his arms behind the back of the chair, if he can get out of those he can help Klaus. First, with little hope of it working, Diego tests the knot. No luck.

He tries to kick out his legs, see if he can move the chair at all. His legs are tied together, but so far as he can tell, not to the chair. He can't move, though. From the slight chill pressing against his ankles, he thinks there's some sort of metal bar connecting the rope on his legs to the rope on his wrists. Well this sucks.

Diego's trying to calculate how long it'll take for someone to notice their missing; best case scenario, Patch gets concerned about Diego not calling her later like he promised and investigates. That'll take too long.

He's searching his brain for a plan when he hears the door opening, and suddenly the lights are on.

"Hey, glad you showed up," Diego says before whoever's there is in view. "We gotta talk about your car insurance."

He hears an amused snort and looks back over at Klaus; it looks like the light was enough to start to wake him up, even if he isn't actually opening his eyes yet. That's good, at least.

The door shuts again, and then someone comes into view. It's not the driver from earlier. A man, stupid surfer looking hair and a gold chain around his neck. Diego can only assume this is Kurt Mallari. It's not exactly how he was planning on finding the dickhead. But then, when does anything ever go to plan in this city.

"Diego, I take it?" Kurt sizes him up, then nods to himself. "You've gotten to be a real pain in the ass, this week."

"Thank you."

"I'm just glad the dumbass snitched to you and not the cops," he says, and Diego would assume he means Kevin, if not for the look he shoots over at Klaus. They must think Diego busting that deal with Klaus wasn't a coincidence. Awkward. "Cops tend to get missed when they disappear. Your punk ass? Shouldn't be a bother."

"You're gonna feel really stupid as soon as I get outta these knots," Diego says.

Kurt doesn't bother with a reply, instead turning his attention to Klaus. He crosses the room and sits down on Klaus's lap, like a fucking weirdo. Then, objectively weirder, he leans in and kisses him. Diego can't tell from where he's sitting if Klaus kisses him back or not, but he's sure he doesn't want to know. Kurt pulls away and says, "I've been wanting to do that for awhile. Shame I have to kill you, Klaus."

"Y'know, no one really  _has to do_ anything," Klaus says matter of factly.

Kurt pats his cheek and stands back up, saying, "You should've thought about that before you decided you had to steal from me, and rat me out to your vigilante brother. I trusted you, you should've trusted me."

"Did Sasha?" Klaus asks, and there's enough emotion in his voice when he says it that Diego thinks they might have been closer than Klaus let on earlier.

The question earns him a slap to the face.

Klaus shakes his head, as if shaking the pain off. He changes the subject. "Your hair looks nice. Finally discovered shampoo, did you?"

Kurt laughs despite himself, but still hits Klaus again. Diego can very easily see Klaus's big mouth making this situation even worse for them. It wouldn't be the first time. Diego clears his throat and says, "He didn't rat you out to anyone, the only one who told me anything was Kevin."

"Yeah, well he still stole from me."

"He stole my wallet, he stole from the 7-11 on the corner. It wasn't personal."

"He does have a point," Klaus says, nodding. He turns to his left and adds, "Is now really the time? I don't have a problem, zip it."

Diego puffs out a sigh. Still trying to save time to think of an escape plan he adds, "Anyway, I don't think it warrants a killing. Do you?"

"Chill, it's not you I'm killing. Yet."

"How comforting."

"Diego doesn't know anything," Klaus says, a rare earnesty in his voice. That is, until he laughs and adds, "I mean. Anything. He probably can't tell oregano from weed. It would have great prank potential if he weren't too uptight to party."

Kurt glances between Klaus and Diego, evaluating this response. "And?"

"And don't kill him, duh!" Klaus says. "Do what you want to me, but let him go. Please?"

"Why should I?"

"I'm pretty sure you have to give a guy you're killing a dying request. Like, legally."

"Again, Klaus, not how the law works," Diego says. Rather than actually answer that, Klaus hisses at him. He's not sure what else he expected.

Kurt takes a few seconds to look back and forth between Diego and Klaus then, and Diego can't figure out what he's thinking exactly but he doubts that it's good. Kurt asks, in a tone that seems it will decide their fate, "What did you do with my knife, Klaus?"

Momentarily, Klaus looks confused. Then he seems to connect the question to a context and says, "I think I hid it."

"You think?" Diego and Kurt both ask in unison.

"Yeah, well I can't remember where," Klaus says, laughing. One day, Diego can only hope, he'll learn to stop laughing at the most inappropriate situations. "I was like. Really high."

Kurt nods, reaching underneath his shirt to take out a gun he was keeping in the waistband of his jeans. Before Diego can even process this, he aims and shoots Klaus in the foot. Diego's shout of "No!" mingles with a shout of pain from Klaus, and Kurt puts the gun back away.

"I won't kill you," Kurt says, which is in stark contrast with the bullet he just put in Klaus's foot.

Klaus's breathing is off rhythm. "You won't?"

"Well you maybe, I haven't made up my mind. But I won't kill your brother."

"You kill Klaus and you better kill me, or else you'll have some new knives to worry about."

"If it were up to me, you'd be dead already," Kurt says. Then, because this day hasn't been hard enough on Diego's brain, he nods towards Klaus and says, "It's up to him."

"What?"

"If you can convince me," Kurt says, circling back over to Klaus, not unlike a predator stalking prey. "To bury the hatchet, and not your brother, I'll let him go."

Klaus blinks, processing. He glances across the room at Diego, then at the same spot over his left, as if looking for guidance. Then he cranes his head, trying to turn around to face Kurt, and asks, "Convince you how?"


	5. bury a friend

The second those words leave Klaus's mouth, Diego knows they're in deep shit. Well, deeper shit than he already thought they were in. He really, really should've just gotten dinner with Patch last night. (Was it last night? He's honestly not sure how long he and Klaus were out, it might be morning already.)

"Convince me how," Kurt repeats, drumming his fingers over his mouth in thought. Diego gets the idea it's just for effect; Kurt might have stupid hair but he seems like the type to have thought this all out beforehand--Diego's airbags are proof of that, he's pretty sure. He puts his hands on Klaus's shoulders and says, "Well, I do have a little game in mind."

"I love games," Klaus says, overcompensating for his obvious nerves with a toothy grin.

"That's the spirit."

"No, that is," Klaus answers, nodding his head towards his left with a chuckle. Diego, like a dumbass, actually looks. There's nothing there but empty space. After the comment gets no response, Klaus clears his throat and says, "Tough crowd. What're we playing? Monopoly? Battleship?"

"I was thinking the Quiet Game," Kurt says. Honestly, situation aside, Diego can't blame him.

Klaus frowns. "Never liked that one much."

"I play it a little different." That can't go anywhere good. Kurt takes a fistful of Klaus's hair, yanking his head backwards to face him. "I'll tell you the rules, are you listening?"

"All ears."

"Good. If you lose, your brother dies."

Klaus whistles lowly and asks, "Well are the stakes high here, or is it just me?"

"Here's how the game is gonna work," Kurt says, ignoring the sidebar. He lets go of Klaus's hair and leans in to speak directly into his ear, running his hands down Klaus's arms and then back up his chest. "I get to do whatever I want to you, and I do mean  _whatever_ I want. And you can't make a sound. Got it so far?"

And Diego knows this is bad, because instead of asking if that's a trick question, which would be the normal Klaus response, Klaus just nods.

Kurt mirrors the nod and continues, lips ghosting against Klaus's neck, "Good. Now when you do make a sound--y'know, cry like a baby or beg me to let you go. When you do, I get the fucking delight of killing your brother. We clear?"

Again, Klaus nods. Diego asks, "Is there a way he wins your stupid game?"

"Sure there is," Kurt says, straightening back up with an unsettling smile. His attention back on Klaus he says, "You tell me where my knife is, and the money you owe me, and I'll let Diego live. Maybe even you, too, if I'm feelin' generous."

"Cuz you seem like such a generous soul," Diego says.

"I let this asshole hang around for as long as I did, didn't I? I was generous. And he stole from me." Kurt steps back a second, then claps his hands once and says, "Let's get started, guys!"

Diego gives the ropes another try. He knows he can't break the knot, but he can't just sit there either.

Kurt paces around Klaus's chair in a circle a couple of times, eyebrows drawn in an odd sort of concentration. After a moment he pauses and says, "Y'know, I can't decide where to start. Too many options, it's like trying to pick a cereal at the store."

After another seconds consideration he shrugs and says, "We have time, what the hell. I'll wing it."

His idea of winging it, it seems, is digging a hammer out of one of the piles of junk in the corner and using it to pry off one of the boards from the window. He uses the back end of the hammer to yank the nails out of the board, only getting a couple without bending them. Klaus shoots Diego a wide-eyed look, and he somehow looks younger, and Diego's reminded (not for the first time) that it's his job to protect Klaus.

It's not a good reminder to have playing in his head while he watches Kurt drive a nail through Klaus's other foot. Klaus's jaw clenches, but to his credit, he doesn't make a sound.

Diego has to rework any inkling of escape plans he was working on; he'll most likely have to carry Klaus out of here, which will complicate taking out any guards Kurt has around the building.

But before he can figure that out he has to figure out how to get out of this damn chair.

His wrists are starting to chafe from pulling at the rope, and he thinks if he can break the skin they might have a chance. If he gets the knots bloody enough, it might make it easier to slip his wrists out. Then he can use that stupid metal rod connecting his hands to his feet as a weapon.

That may take more time than they have. And until Diego can figure a way out of here, both of their lives are in Klaus's hands. As much as he cares for his brother, it's not a comforting concept.

Kurt's taken a lighter out of his back pocket. Right now he's just toying with Klaus, holding it up to his face but flicking it back off at the last second, right before it gets close enough to burn him. It doesn't matter how many times he does it, Klaus flinches every time. Diego can't wait to kill this guy.

"Hey! You burn my brother with that thing and you die, got it?"

"What, you mean like this?" Kurt asks, flicking the lighter back on about a centimeter away from Klaus's eye. Again, he turns it off before he can actually do any damage, but where Kurt is laughing, Klaus looks terrified. "You two are fun."

Kurt takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up, returning the box and lighter to his pockets.

He smokes in silence until the tension in Klaus's shoulders starts to relax, and then he buries the end of the cigarettes into Klaus's collarbone.

It's not a conscious choice, but Diego's legs try to make him jump out of the chair again. He knows it won't work, he knows he's stuck. But it's instinct. He needs to focus, instinct isn't getting him anywhere.

Tossing the (admittedly no longer burning) cigarette over his shoulder without a care, Kurt stops to run his fingers through Klaus's hair with an almost longing sigh. Then he steps back, picks up the board he'd pried from the window earlier, and swings it, hitting Klaus in the ribs, and then the stomach. And if he didn't get any internal injuries in the car crash, Diego can't say how long that'll last.

He hasn't made much progress in his plan to slick the ropes with blood; no matter how much Diego twists his wrists around, the skin doesn't seem to want to break. Normally that might be a good thing, but at the moment it just serves to piss him off.

Diego loses count of the hits before the board breaks in two. Kurt frowns. "Damn, I was getting into that."

"Bummer. Guess you have to let him go now."

"You're cute," Kurt tells him, before promptly punching Klaus in the gut. The nose. The eye. "I gotta give you credit, Klaus. I thought you'd've lost by now. I had, like, no faith in you."

In response, Klaus just sticks his tongue out petulantly.

Kurt hits him again.

Then he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a switchblade. Runs the point of it over Klaus's cheekbone down to his jaw, not actually cutting him yet. Diego wonders what the odds are of him being able to get that switchblade from him, if Diego had a knife they might just have a chance.

He runs the blade across the same path over Klaus's face, only this time he applies just enough pressure on his jaw that a bright trail of red trickles down his neck. Kurt makes similar marks on his collarbones.

Klaus isn't looking at Kurt. He's not looking at Diego, either. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, breathing obviously very deliberate.

"You know what's funny?" Kurt asks, and visibly Klaus ignores him. "I only killed Sasha so we could keep you, and now I have to kill you, so no one knows I killed Sasha. Ironic, right?"

At this, Klaus jerks his head around to look at Kurt. Diego can't help but compare the expression on his face to that of a kicked puppy.

Because Klaus can't ask, Diego does. "The hell are you talking about?"

Kurt drapes himself across Klaus's lap, slinging one hand over his shoulders, and says, "It's kind of a boring story, really. But if you wanna hear it..."

He trails off, pausing to stab the switchblade into Klaus's right shoulder. It catches him off guard and his whole body jerks, which Diego can only imagine makes it hurt worse, considering the myriad of other injuries. He almost throws Kurt off his lap with the movement, which would've at least been kind of funny in a messed up sort of way, but the asshole catches himself.

"Okay, I'll tell you," he says, reaching up to idly play with Klaus's hair as he talks. "You probably know, Sasha got sober, the little bitch. And, while I don't normally tolerate people leaving, I was gonna let her go because everyone loved her."

"By don't tolerate, you mean you kill anyone who tries to get better, right?"

Kurt ignores him and continues, "But she came back. Looking for you, Klaus! Told me she wanted you to crash on her couch for a bit instead of the dumpsters outside Motel 8."

The most shocking part of this story, to Diego, shouldn't be finding out his brother has been sleeping in a dumpster. And yet...If Klaus was homeless, why didn't he ask Diego, or any of the others, for help?

"And, more importantly, she was gonna help you get sober too," Kurt says, laughing as if the idea was preposterous.

"So you killed her?"

"No! Look, Diego, what you gotta know is everyone was real cut up about losing Sasha. Her and your baby bro here were like eye candy and comic relief rolled into one," Kurt says, defensive. "I didn't wanna kill her. But I didn't want her to take Klaus either, so I told her he wasn't around."

"Then how did she still end up with a knife in her back?"

"She didn't believe me, that's how," Kurt snaps, yanking the blade back out of Klaus's shoulder then. He gestures with it as he says, "She tried to go in, I blocked her, and the slut pushed me."

"It wasn't just about sobriety, was it?" Diego asks, raising an eyebrow. "She knew what a psycho you are. And she...she was protecting him..."

Diego feels a sudden wave of both guilt and gratefulness to that corpse at the crime scene.

Gratefulness, because she was looking out for Klaus when no one else was. Was going to help him get sober, give him shelter. She lost her life doing it. Guilt, because it should have been Diego taking care if his own brother. But Diego doesn't even think he has faith that Klaus is capable of sobriety.

"And she died for it," Kurt says, sounding incredibly smug about this.

Which is when Diego realizes: Klaus is crying. There are actual tears running down his cheeks. Diego takes one look at his face and understands. Every word Kurt's said about Sasha so far, has hurt far more than any of the torture Kurt came up with. 

"She died for you, and if you don't tell me where you hid that knife, her sacrifice is in vain. Sound fair to you?"

"He already told you he doesn't know where he put it," Diego points out.

"He's lying," Kurt says, punctuating the statement by jamming the switchblade into Klaus's bicep. He leans in then and kisses Klaus again, letting out a somewhat gag inducing moan before pulling away and asking, "Do you really want me to have to bury you with your friend?"


	6. who's a sick puppy?

Diego's not sure how long they've been in this room.

After telling them about Sasha, Kurt had spent a little more time cutting Klaus with the knife, then decided he was hungry and left them alone. That must have been hours ago, although all Diego really has to go off of is the fact that less and less light is coming in through the gaps in the boards on the windows.

"Klaus, I need you to stay awake, okay?"

Alone or no, it seems like Klaus will be following the rules of Kurt's messed up game. He opens his eyes, which had been drifting shut, and gives Diego a small nod.

Not that Diego's judging, but he looks terrible. He's even paler than usual, which only seems to make the bruises and the blood stand out more. He's clammy, and his breathing looks out of rhythm.

"Good. I'm gonna get us out of here," Diego says, earning a disbelieving look from Klaus that asks the question without asking it. He answers, "Don't worry about how, just. Have you been here before? Do you know where we are?"

He gets a small, uncertain nod.

Uncertain will have to do. Diego asks, "If I can get us out of these chairs, will you know the way out of the building?"

Because Diego doesn't even know how big the building is. Going by the windows, it's abandoned. But that could mean an apartment building, a house, or old offices. It just might be easier making it out to the streets if they knew where the door was.

Klaus hesitates, nods, then shakes his head immediately after. Diego guesses that's a maybe.

It'll have to do.

He has more questions, but before he can ask them the door opens and closes again. Kurt comes into view a second later, carrying a beat up duffel bag in one hand and a five gallon water jug in the other, and greeting them with a sing-song, "I'm baaaack."

"Well that's disappointing," Diego deadpans.

"Don't be such a bitch, Diego. We're gonna have fun," Kurt says, dropping the duffel on the floor by the window.

He digs around in the bag for a few seconds before holding up a taser and a wrench, turning towards Klaus and Diego to ask, "Which one?"

"If you're asking me which I'll kill you with once I'm out of this chair--" Diego starts.

"I'm not, but love the enthusiasm," Kurt interrupts him. He tosses the wrench back into the bag, patting Diego's shoulder as he walks past him towards Klaus. "Ready for this?"

Klaus eyes the taser in Kurt's hand, then looks back up at him and shakes his head.

Kurt puffs out a sigh, and says, "Not the answer I was hoping for, that's gonna make this hella awkward."

Again, Klaus shakes his head. Kurt switches on the taser and brings it to Klaus's ribs. And Diego's been tased before himself, but combine it with the bruises and the open wounds and whatever else, he can't imagine the kind of pain that Klaus is in.

Diego finally feels a little bit of blood on his wrist. He's getting somewhere at least.

Kurt takes the taser away after a couple of seconds, but Klaus doesn't stop twitching for awhile. It's only after he's finally still that Kurt switches the taser back on, digging it into the other side of Klaus's ribs.

Stepping back, Kurt says, "Man, I wish I got to do this part of the job more often."

"You are one sick puppy."

"Thank you."

He drives the taser into Klaus's ribs one more time.

Once he gets bored of this he walks back over to his duffel and puts the taser away. Diego takes the moment to check up on Klaus. He's barely even holding his own head up, but he's nodding slowly, almost like he's listening to someone. No one's talking.

He opens his eyes again and looks across the room at Diego, catching his concerned stare. In response, Klaus offers him a smile.

It's probably supposed to be comforting. But, given the split lip he's currently sporting and the way his teeth are slightly stained with blood, it has the opposite effect.

When Kurt comes back, he's carrying an old towel and the water jug he brought in. Typical.

"Waterboarding? Really, Kurt? I thought you were more original than that."

"It's a classic, man," Kurt answers, sounding far too amused by this than he has any right to be. Diego still can't get his hands loose.

When he reaches Klaus's chair, he presses a quick kiss to his cheek before draping the towel over his face. Kurt clears his throat and says, "Y'know, Klaus, it doesn't have to be this way. If you'd just tell me what you did with the knife..."

"He already told you he doesn't know, jackass," Diego says.

"I don't buy it," Kurt replies, twisting the cap off of the water jug to pour it out over Klaus's face. Diego doubts Klaus is even listening, but Kurt asks him, "Are we having fun yet?"

* * *

About half of the jug later, Kurt sighs overdramatically and drops the jug onto the floor, tearing the towel off of Klaus's face. He's getting more and more angry the longer this goes on without Klaus breaking the rules. Which, admittedly, is keeping them both alive. But Kurt was less dangerous when he was mostly just doing this for the fun of it.

Kurt smacks him in the back of the head. "Come on, Klaus, how dumb can you be? All you have to do is ask me to stop, and this can be over."

Klaus actually displays no signs of even having heard him.

"Is your stupid brother really that important? What's he ever done for your scrawny ass, that you should protect him?" Kurt asks.

Diego thinks he should probably be mad about a comment like that, but he kind of sees the point. He only just found out today that Klaus is homeless, and he only bought Klaus dinner the other night because he wanted information. Even he doesn't understand why Klaus is going through all this to protect him.

Klaus screws his eyes shut, as if shutting out the light will shut out Kurt's words, but remains silent.

Kurt hits him again.

He stalks around the chair again so he's standing next to Klaus rather than beside him, then takes his chin in his hand, tilting his head up to look at him. He waits for Klaus to open his eyes again to say, "Fine. You don't wanna talk, don't talk. We'll just have to find another use for that pretty little mouth of yours."

Kurt walks back around and undoes the knots keeping Klaus's hands behind the chair--Diego guessed there's little threat of an escape there, he's in no condition to fight his way out and besides, his foot is still nailed to the floor.

"Go on," Kurt says, gesturing to the floor. "On your knees."

Klaus shakes his head, pressing closer to the back of the chair. He looks at a figure that's not there to his right and raises his eyebrows, as if silently begging for help, and when the empty space cannot help him he looks across at Diego.

Diego doesn't think he's actually felt this useless before in his life. He helps people every day with his work as a vigilante, sure, but what's the point if he can't even help his own brother?

"That wasn't a suggestion, Klaus," Kurt says when Klaus doesn't make any move to get out of the chair, taking a fistful of his hair and using it to throw him out of the chair.

Diego gives his wrist another jerk, and the rope gives a little but not enough. He's not making progress fast enough.

"I'm not a complete asshole, I know no means no," Kurt says, squatting on the floor in front of Klaus. He runs his thumb over Klaus's lips and adds, "But you're not  _telling_ me no, are you, Klaus?"

Which is when he leans forward to kiss Klaus again, only this time before he can, Klaus headbutts him in the nose. Diego doesn't even think about it, but he cheers, "Yeah! Go Klaus!"

Kurt lets out a swear and stumbles back ever so slightly, and Klaus scrambles backwards. Going by his line of sight, Diego thinks he's going for the duffel bag. Smart, they already know there are weapons in there. Only he seems to have forgotten about the nail in his foot--What kind of pain does a guy have to be in to forget about a nail in his foot?

He takes half a step before the nail becomes an issue, and then he's on the floor again.

Kurt laughs, the cruel bastard.

Klaus starts to push himself back up, but he only gets to his elbows before he has to stop again. At first Diego thinks he's having trouble breathing, but then he turns his head to the side and pukes onto Kurt's shoes. It's most likely a coincidence, but Diego chooses to think that aim was deliberate.

Kurt jumps back, despite the damage already being done. If Diego wasn't so worried about his idiot brother, he might laugh.

"Gross," Kurt says, kicking his foot as if that'll make it clean. "That don't look good, Klaus."

He's right, it doesn't look good. There are spots of red mixed in with bile, and Diego's no doctor, but he figures vomiting blood in any capacity isn't a good sign.

"Gotta admit, that kinda ruined the mood, man," Kurt says, making another attempt at shaking the vomit off of his shoes. 

"It's internal bleeding," Diego says, urgently. Because this is urgent.

"Thanks doc. Hey, who's a  _sick_ puppy now, huh Diego?"

"Shut up. He can't tell you where anything is if he dies, dipshit." He has very little hope that that'll fly with Kurt, but he has to try something. They need more time, and it's looking more and more like time is what they don't have.

Kurt shrugs and takes Klaus's left wrist, pulling it away from him so his arm is straight, one foot on Klaus's shoulder. "Guess we'll have to speed this up, then."

"Do not--"

"Tell me what I wanna know, or I break this arm," Kurt says. He doesn't actually give Klaus a lot of time to reply, if he were going to reply, before twisting Klaus's wrist with almost unexpected force.

The sound of bones cracking in an otherwise completely silent room makes Diego think he might just throw up too.

He doesn't.

Klaus does.

"Would you stop doing that?" Kurt snaps, as if it's something in Klaus's control. He puts a foot on Klaus's neck and says, "Just ask me, and this can be over!"

When he finally does take his foot away, and it looks like Klaus can breath again, it's only to kick him in the ribs.

Diego pulls at his wrist again, but he doesn't feel it give anymore. It's not bloody enough for his hand to slip out. Although it's possible if he can dislocate his thumb he can yank his hand out that way.

"Why won't you say something?" Kurt shouts, punctuating each word with another kick. He keeps kicking as he says, "Scream! Cry! Hell, laugh, I don't care!"

Klaus is trying to get away from the relentless kicking, but anytime he manages to get himself up on his hands and knees he's kicked back down again.

Diego gives his wrist one last jerk, wincing slightly at the pop in his thumb, but he's got one hand free.

Once he's gotten one loose, it's simple enough to get the other. He doesn't take the time to think about the ropes around his ankles, he just grabs the metal rod that had been connecting them and swings.

He hits Kurt square in the stomach, and he guy stumbles back into the wall.

Admittedly, Diego's plan doesn't go much farther than that.

As it turns out, he doesn't think he needs it.

The sounds of a commotion reach them from the hallway, and Diego's lets himself hope it's Patch's team. She must've noticed he's gone by now.

Kurt turns to Diego with an alarmed look on his face, having heard the noise at the same time as Diego. "Tell me it's not the cops."

He hears the distinct sound of a door being kicked in behind him, and then an all too familiar voice answers, "It's not the cops."


	7. in mom we trust

Diego doesn't think he's ever been this happy to hear Luther's voice. Actually, he doesn't think he's ever been happy to hear Luther's voice before. And he's not sure he would describe how he's feeling right now as happy, come to think of it. It's more of a 'not annoyed as he would usually be' feeling. Whatever, semantics.

"I told you your solo vigilante thing would get you into trouble one da--" Luther starts, in his usual insufferable  _I'm Number One_ voice. But he cuts himself off before he can finish, and Diego guesses he's just noticed Klaus on the floor.

Kurt glances back and forth between Diego and Luther for a second, then reaches a hand behind his back. Already knowing what he's doing, Diego says, "He's got a gun."

Luther snaps back to attention, momentarily forgetting their brother on the floor. As much as Diego hates to admit anything good about the walking protein shake that is his brother, Kurt never really stood a chance. It's a little too therapeutic, too, watching Luther grab the gun out of his hand before he can shoot it and crush the stupid thing in his hands. He sends Kurt falling onto his ass with one hit.

Figuring that's taken care of, Diego hurries to untying his own ankles so he can leave the damned chair. All promised revenge threats that were meant to take place once he got himself free are forgotten, as he sprints the two steps across the room to Klaus, dropping to his knees in front of him with little regard to the vomit, water, and blood all over the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Luther locking a pair of handcuffs around Kurt's wrists. It's not the fate Diego would've chosen, but it'll do. It looks like the asshole's out cold anyway, though, so he doesn't know why Luther bothers.

"Klaus? Klaus, you're okay. I got you," he says, knowing only half of the statement is true. Klaus tries to get up again, able to push himself up on his hands before his elbows cave in. Diego manages to catch him before he can hit the hard wood floors. It's only when he's holding Klaus there on the floor that he really thinks about just how  _small_ his brother is. His fingers clutch Diego's shirt like it's a life preserver. "Hey, Luther got him. You can talk to me now."

Klaus's face is buried in Diego's neck, but Diego can feel him shake his head.

Diego looks up at Luther and asks, "He's out, right?" Luther just nods, confusion obvious on his face. "Okay, can you tell Klaus?"

It's obvious Luther doesn't understand the request, but thankfully he doesn't question it. He just walks around to squat down next to Diego, and he reaches out to touch Klaus's shoulder but then seems to rethink it. Instead, he points across the room at Kurt, despite Klaus not looking. "He's, uh. He's out cold. You're safe now," Luther says, before turning to Diego and asking in a whisper, "Diego, what's going on?"

Diego tells him to shut up.

Klaus starts to shake, and for a second Diego panics, not sure if it's some sort of seizure or silent sobbing or what. But after a couple of seconds, it becomes audible and Diego realizes: he's laughing.

As his laughter grows louder, Diego and Luther exchange two equally concerned looks before turning their eyes back to their brother. Klaus lifts his head off of Diego's chest as he cackles, and Diego telling Luther to shut up can't be that funny. Only then he looks across the room at where Luther's still pointing, a bemused look on his face. Klaus takes in a deep breath before his laughter turns into a deafening shout, and he buries his face in Diego's chest again.

Diego's not sure for how long Klaus yells, but he doesn't think it's enough to cover everything he's been through in the past few hours. Then, once he's done all the shouting he can, it peters off to a quiet whimpering.

That's all the time Diego can really give him.

It almost pains him to let go of Klaus, but he has to, as he finds himself asking Luther, "We have to go. Can you carry him?"

"Yeah, I got it," Luther says, only when Diego goes to pass Klaus over, Klaus only clings on to him tighter. "Or maybe not."

"Alright, alright, I got you, Klaus," Diego says, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. Klaus only lightens his grip slightly, but Diego takes that as a win. He shoots a look at Luther and says, "His foot's nailed to the ground. We gotta get it out before we can go anywhere."

Klaus pulls away from Diego then, looking back and forth between him and Luther and shaking as head, silently pleading them not to. That's definitely not a good sign, but Diego's not focusing on that right now. He can't. Instead, he puts a hand on Klaus's shoulder to get his attention back and tells him, "We have to, Klaus. We'll be quick, okay?"

He frowns, but after a second he nods.

Diego gives him a smile he hopes is comforting, then helps him up to his feet, slinging Klaus's good arm across his shoulders to support him. He gives Luther a nod, and Luther kneels down to inspect the nail, pulling a face that's a mixture of disgust and sympathy. Diego decides to distract Klaus, he imagines that's the best way to make this the least painful.

"Hey, Klaus, remember that time we forgot to unlock the door after we snuck out to Griddy's?" Diego asks, earning a small nod. "And you thought breaking a window was the best way to get back in?"

Klaus nods again, this time with a hint of a smile on his face.

"I never got why you told Dad you threw that brick," Luther says.

Diego doesn't have to answer that, because then the nail is out of Klaus's foot, and he's picking Klaus up to carry him out of the room. As they walk, he turns to Luther and asks, "How'd you even know where to find us?"

"Not important," is the answer he gets.

Which means it is important. He makes a mental note to badger Luther about it later.

They make it out of the building after that without much incident; of course, the number of unconscious bodies on the floor lead Diego to believe there would've been plenty of incident had he and Klaus had to escape on their own. But then, only about half of the bodies look like they were knocked out. When Diego looks into rooms through the open doors, there are mattresses and piles of blankets on the floors with people in varying degrees of awareness, some with needles still poking out of their arms. He doesn't know how Klaus does that.

When they get outside, there's a police cruiser and an ambulance parked out front. Diego spots two familiar officers getting out of the car, neither of them are Eudora. The paramedics, it seems, are on standby.

Diego's first thought is to carry Klaus towards the ambulance, but he pauses when Luther asks, "Where are you going?"

"Ambulance?" Diego says, like it should be obvious. Because it should be.

"Mom'll be able to treat him better than the hospital," Luther says, eyebrows knitting together.

Which...hadn't occurred to Diego, to be honest. He figures he's just been away from the Academy too long--he hasn't forgotten Mom, he never could. But his brain's become more programmed to functioning on his own. Ever since he left he's been going to a hospital for serious injuries. Those are his new habits.

He nods, though, because for once in his life Luther is right. "Okay, which car's yours?"

Luther nods towards his car, parked a few feet in front of the police cruiser. They hurry towards it, and Luther opens the back door for Diego. As Diego climbs in with Klaus, he hears one of the officers stopping Luther to ask him something. But Diego knows they're not in trouble; he's willing to be the cops are only here because Luther gave them a tip about the place. It's funny, when Diego stops criminals on the streets it's vigilantism. But when Luther does it for the Umbrella Academy, with Dad's money backing him and that stupid leotard, it's heroism. There's a double standard.

Luther doesn't talk to the cops for long, and then he's getting into the front seat and driving.

Before they know it, they're outside the Umbrella Academy. It's almost surreal, Diego didn't think he'd ever be coming back here again.

Not that he has time to think about that, as they practically throw themselves out of the car, and Diego hurries to carry Klaus inside. Luther runs in ahead of them, glancing around at the empty foyer. "Pogo? Mom?"

"Welcome back, Master Luther," Diego hears Pogo's voice from the next room over. It sounds like he's getting closer as he asks, "Were you able to find your brother alright?"

"Define alright," Diego says when Pogo appears in the doorway.

Pogo almost drops the mug he's holding when he sees them. "Quick, this way. Master Luther, find your mother and tell her she's needed in surgery, will you? She should be upstairs."

"I'm on it."

Diego follows Pogo towards the house 'surgery.' Not that he needs Pogo's guidance, it's a room they've all been to plenty of times over the years. Although it's called the surgery, it hasn't always been used for operations. It's just like a doctor's office. Hell, Diego remembers Mom patching up a simple skinned knee for him once when he was about four. He knows this won't be as simple as rubbing alcohol and a band-aid, but he's hoping it'll be more of a doctor's office than an actual surgery today.

He lays Klaus down on the table as soon as they get there. Pogo looks him over quickly but when he speaks, it's mostly directed to Diego. "What happened?"

"Some psycho tortured him."

"How helpful," Pogo remarks. He steps closer to the table, and Klaus flinches ever so slightly when Pogo reaches out to touch the bruising along his side. In a calm voice Pogo says, "It's alright, Master Klaus. I'm only trying to help. Can you tell me what happened?"

Klaus shoots a look over at Diego, then shakes his head. Still not talking. Perfect.

Pogo rolls with it, turning to Diego instead and asking, "Has he been nauseous?"

"Threw up. Twice."

He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, Luther rushes into the room, Mom trailing behind him. Her eyes go wide when she takes in the room, and she rushes over to the bedside. She's quiet for a few seconds while she scans over the injuries. Then she and Pogo are talking about something, and while Diego's listening, he's not really taking in their words. He's too focused on Klaus.

Klaus who hasn't made a sound since that gut wrenching scream. Who's clammy, and pale. And bleeding. And Diego's job to protect.

"Diego."

He snaps out of it when he hears his name, blinking and turning to look at Mom. She tells him, "Pogo and I can take care of him from here, sweetie. Why don't you go get some rest?"

"I'm not--" Diego starts, but his traitorous brain won't get the words right. He takes a breath, and says more clearly, "I'm not leaving him."

Mom gives Pogo a look and waits for Pogo to nod before walking around the table to stand in front of Diego. She puts a hand on his cheek, and says, "You're not leaving him, you'll be here when he needs you. But Pogo and I need the room clear. Your old room is still set up, you can go get some rest, or go with Luther to talk to your father. Okay, sweetie?"

She gives him a gentle smile, and Diego's reminded of just how much he trusts her. And Klaus needs someone he can trust right now which, apparently, is not Diego. If it were, they wouldn't be in this room. So Diego gives her a small nod, then shoots Klaus an encouraging smile and says, "I'm not leaving. I'll just be upstairs, okay?"

Klaus nods. Which is good, because if he hadn't Diego probably wouldn't leave, trust in Mom or no. Diego takes in a deep breath, then gives Klaus one last nod before starting towards the door with Luther.

Once they make it to the hallway, Diego's not sure where to go. He knows Mom wants him to rest, but he can't see himself going to his old room and taking a nap while he knows Klaus is in surgery. Still, there's not much he can think of to do here and still feel useful. He's debating about pacing restlessly in the hallway until Mom tells him he can see Klaus, or calling Eudora. He doesn't think he'd tell her what's going on, but it might be nice to hear her voice.

Before he can decide on a course of action, Luther steps up to him and says, "Klaus will be fine."

"You don't know that," Diego says, turning to walk down the hall. He's not sure where he's walking to.

Luther doesn't answer that. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest and says, "Dad's going to want to know what happened. Do you wanna tell me now, or come with me and tell us both at once?"

Ah, crap. Dad.


	8. the good old bad days

"Speaking of explanations," Diego says, rather than answering Luther's question. Luther must already know where Diego's going with this, too, because he just puffs out a weary sigh. Diego turns to look at him, asking, "You ready to tell me how you knew where to find us yet?"

"It's not impor--"

"Don't give me that shit," he interrupts. He doesn't know why Luther thinks telling him something isn't important will make Diego leave it alone; if anything, it's only ever served to make him more curious.

Luther takes one look at Diego's face, and must come to the (completely accurate) conclusion that there's no arguing with Diego. Especially not today. He sighs one more time and shakes his head and answers reluctantly, "Dad's been...keeping tabs on you."

"Dad's been spying on me," Diego rephrases.

He doesn't know why he's surprised.

Luther opens his mouth to object, then seems to reconsider and closes it again. He looks almost like a fish, but in Diego's opinion, reconsidering was the right choice. That is, until Luther decides to reconsider his reconsideration. It seems his brother isn't physically capable of stopping himself from defending their father. Typical. Luther clears his throat and says, "He was concerned you might get yourself hurt, especially after flunking out of the police academy, and deciding to become some sort of vigilante--"

Diego interrupts, "Oh. Suddenly Dad's concerned about my safety."

"He's always cared, Diego, why do you think he programmed Mom to be a doctor?"

"Do  _not_ bring Mom into this."

"Whatever. Point is, clearly Dad was right. Or did you not need me to help you escape from a psychopath today?"

"I was handling it." Luther rolls his eyes but otherwise doesn't comment. Whatever. Diego's grateful Luther showed up when he did, not that he'll be admitting that out loud. It made their escape a helluva lot quicker, and objectively safer. But he  _was_ handling it. He would've gotten Klaus out of there whether or not Luther showed up. (Although a thought at the back of his head wonders if he would've gotten Klaus out on time. Not pleasant imagery.)

"You might've been, sure. But remind me, where's Klaus right now?"

Diego's fist clenches on its own, and he comes incredibly close to throwing it. Luther's one brother he's never had any qualms about hitting. But he stops himself about halfway there, when he realizes Luther's right, and he releases a breath and drops his hand back to his side. Mentioning Klaus was a low blow, but a fair one.

To his credit, Luther at least seems to catch on to Diego's feelings on the subject. Less to his credit, he still insists they talk about it. He sound quieter when he speaks again, a little less accusatory, "How'd Klaus get mixed up in your vigilante crap anyway?"

"Actually, I got mixed up in his crap," Diego answers.

"Of course," Luther says, nodding, dawning realization in his eyes. Diego doesn't know why it took him so long to figure that out. Kurt's a known drug dealer, Klaus is a known addict, and Diego was basically unharmed when Luther found them. It was pretty obvious Kurt's vendetta wasn't against him. But Diego doesn't like Luther's tone when he asks, "He owes him money, doesn't he?"

"It's not his fault."

Luther looks like he's about to counter that for a second. Instead, he gestures towards the other end of the hall and says, "Dad should be in his office."

"Dad's always in his office," Diego says. But he follows anyway.

Up a set of stairs, around a couple of corners. Largely silent the whole damn way, which Diego won't complain about. He doesn't want to hear what Luther has to say anyway. The house looks exactly the same as it did when he left. Dad's in his office.

Luther knocks lightly on the door, makes them wait until they hear a "Come in" before letting Diego open the stupid door.

It almost looks as if Dad hasn't moved in upwards of four years; he's exactly where he was the last time Diego remembers seeing him. Wearing the same stupid monocle. The same stupid outfit. Stupid nose decorated by the same stupid mustache, and buried in the same stupid book. Diego wonders if one day, Dad will have spent so much time sitting in that chair that when they walk back into the office, the bastard will be covered in layers of dust.

"Number One, mission report?" That's all he says. He doesn't even look up.

"Hello to you, too," Diego says.

It's almost too satisfying when he actually gets Dad to look up. Even if it is only for a split second, he catches that brief surprise on the old bastard's face. But then it's gone, schooled back into well practiced neutrality. "Number Two. Well, it looks like you were unharmed after all. What are you doing here?"

Before Diego can offer a reply--which is a shame, the one he was leaning towards was really cutting and sarcastic--Luther interrupts, "Diego's okay, but Klaus was with him. He's in the surgery right now."

From the brief looks Dad and Luther exchange there, Diego guesses Klaus wasn't being spied on the way Diego was. For a second, he thinks he's jealous. Until it occurs to him that means Dad's already given up on Klaus, but apparently not the others, and the jealousy turns to something else. Dad frowns ever so slightly and asks, his tone clinical and unfeeling (as usual), "What is his condition?"

"Not good," Luther says, uncertain.

Diego figures Luther didn't exactly have a lot of time to analyze each of Klaus's injuries on their way here, but damn, that's the least helpful answer he's ever heard. Dipshit. So, although he thought he was done answering to Dad, Diego says, "Mom and Pogo are treating him for internal bleeding right now."

"Ah, glad to hear it's not another overdose," Dad says, a very subtle hint of a joke in his voice. As if that's anything to joke about.

"No, but it is...drug related," Luther tells him, and it takes all of Diego's willpower not to smack him right there. Instead, he just shoots him a glare that he hopes is as sharp as the knives he carries. Dad raises an eyebrow, a silent request for explanation. Luther answers, "The police have the man in custody already, a local drug lord. It's my belief he took Klaus and Diego as revenge for some sort of debt Klaus owed him."

"Way to make it sound like the guy in  _surgery_ right now is the asshole," Diego snaps. Despite Luther being technically right, Diego didn't care for his wording, or the tone he used when he said it.

"Are you gonna tell me that's not why he took you two?"

"I'm gonna tell you to drop that 'Holier than Thou' damn attitude about it."

"Last I checked it wasn't  _me_ going around putting my family in danger."

Diego's not even sure if that's a dig at him or Klaus, but either way he's about ready to throw that punch now. He's interrupted, this time, by the oh so nostalgic sound of Dad clearing his throat in disapproval. Diego always used to wonder how someone could fit so much disdain in such a brief, simple sound. Only after Diego and Luther both turn to him does he say, "If you two are about finished acting like infants, I do have a few more questions for you."

"Yeah, well the great part about being an adult? I don't have to answer to you anymore," Diego says. And he turns to leave.

But Dad's voice stops him before he can quite reach the door. "Then you should've brought him to the hospital."

One thing that Diego hasn't missed about the Academy--and that's a long ass list--is Dad's almost uncanny ability to manipulate people into telling him everything. Diego and Luther leave his office somewhere around forty minutes later, and somehow Dad knows almost the whole story. They go round in circles for awhile, with Diego either deliberately omitting details or flat out refusing to answer, but Dad won't let it go. And it's hard to keep a lie or an omission straight in his head when he's as mad and worried as he already is, and Dad's ever-calm tone doesn't much help.

So yeah, by the time he's excused from the office--Great, he's letting Dad "excuse him" from rooms again now--Dad knows almost the whole story. Diego's able to leave out the fact that Klaus stole drugs from Kurt, as it turns out, Klaus stealing the murder weapon that could put Kurt in jail is reason enough to explain the asshole kidnapping them.

But whether he told Dad willingly or not, a part of him still feels like he's let Klaus down as he's leaving the office. He wonders if he's making a habit out of it.

* * *

He ends up sleeping on the bench in the hall outside of the surgery.

It's not on purpose. He sits down there so he's easy to fine when Mom or Pogo come looking for him, to tell him how Klaus is doing, or when he can see him. But the past days events have apparently been more tiring than he thought, and with the adrenaline of their escape and rushing Klaus to the Academy wearing off, he just finds it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

He's not sure how long he's slept when he's woken up by a gentle hand on his shoulders. He opens his eyes and jumps up with a start, hands instinctively curling into fists, but he relaxes when he realizes it's Mom.

"Sorry," Diego says, letting the tension out in a sigh. "Force of habit."

"When I told you to get some rest, I meant in a bed, silly."

"Didn't mean to fall asleep," he admits. She gives him a well-practiced sympathetic smile. Even after all these years, all the times he's seen that same smile, it still manages to make him feel just a little bit better. He drags a hand over his eyes to wake himself up the rest of the way and asks through a stifled yawn, "How is he?"

Mom moves to sit down on the bench next to him, and Diego scoots ever so slightly to the side to give her a little more room. "Well, he's stable. He's resting now."

Diego nods. Stable. Stable is good. Resting is good.

"He'll be okay, Diego," Mom says, when Diego doesn't say anything for a few seconds. She puts an arm around his shoulders, and for a moment he feels just like a kid again, her comforting him while he cries over a sprained wrist or whatever it is kids cry over. Back in the good old bad days, when she couldn't solve all his problems but sometimes it felt like she could. Always, he knew she would try. He knows she'll still try, if he lets her, but he wishes things were still that simple. "You did a good thing, bringing him here. What's this?"

She reaches a hand up towards the cut on his eyebrow that he'd gotten in the crash. It feels so long ago, he actually forgot he'd gotten it.

"You're hurt," she says.

He brushes her hand away and shakes his head. "It's nothing, Mom, I'm okay."

"Well, you should at least let me clean it. Wouldn't want you getting an infection, would we?"

Diego opens his mouth to object, but she's already on her feet again, disappearing back through the doors she must've come from. He's not sure if she means for him to follow her or not, so after a second of hesitation, he gets up and he follows her.

The surgery is...empty. He thought Klaus would still be on the table, doesn't know how he slept through them moving him to another room.

Mom walks over to him with a white rag and a bowl of water. Dips the towel in the water and reaches a hand out to dab at the cut. While she does, she says, "I have an idea. Why don't you come and help me with breakfast? I remember how you used to love cooking the eggs."

Despite everything, Diego feels the faint hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, Mom. I'd like that."


	9. someone to blame

It wasn't his plan, exactly, but Diego stays in his old room for the next week.

Klaus is up and walking (but not very far) after three days of bed rest. Walking, but not talking. They've told him Kurt's in police custody, and as such, can't hurt Diego or anyone else for that matter. They've told him he's safe. They've even tried saying weird random shit in the hopes of making him laugh, which comes the closest to working but still he remains dead silent. Diego finds that's not a phrase he's very fond of these days.

The only time he hears Klaus's voice is at night, when the nightmares hit. Diego's also had his fair share of those, the past few nights.

Once, Diego catches him raiding the morphine supply in the surgery. He wonders just how much of a tolerance the asshole has built up to substances like that over the years. Usually when people are high, they have significantly less of a verbal filter. Klaus doesn't speak even when he's on the morphine, and whatever other painkillers he takes from the cabinets. And yeah, Diego's firmly against Klaus's drug habits, but this time he doesn't stop him. It's Diego's fault he needs the painkillers anyway.

Mom gives Klaus a notepad, and a purple one of those dumb glitter gel pens. Klaus loves it, of course.

One night at dinner, he passes Diego a note saying  _'dinner w/ dear old dad again. almost as bad as the torture, don't you think?'_ with a little laughing face drawn next to it. Diego doesn't laugh.

The next morning, he takes his car down to the coffee shop across from the police station. Eudora's sitting on a stool at the bar by the window, and there are two coffees on the counter when Diego takes the stool next to her. And although he's already sitting there, he asks, "This seat taken?"

"It is now."

"When's the trial?"

"One month, assuming it doesn't get pushed back," she says, shrugging lightly and sliding one of the coffee cups over to him. He wonders if she's just being nice, buying him coffee, because she feels bad for him. "We have a strong case, but he has strong lawyers. We might do a little better if we had the weapon for Sasha's murder."

They've discussed this over the phone twice already, and as a result, he's discussed this with Klaus over notepad twice already. Forgetting where he hid the damn knife hadn't been some cover story after all, he really has no idea where he left it. Diego takes a sip of Eudora's charity coffee and tells her just that, "I've talked to Klaus. Twice. He really doesn't know where it is."

Eudora nods. The tone of business is gone from her voice when she asks, "How is he?"

"How do you think?" Diego says. It only hits him that that's rude when she gives him a look, and he sighs and shakes his head. Offers a better answer, "He's quiet, Eudora. Paranoid...Still an asshole, but on paper instead of out loud now. I think he will be until Kurt fucking Mallari is behind bars."

"That should make getting him to testify a little complicated," she says.

"If I have to read in that stupid glittery purple ink another day. Why couldn't Mom have gotten him a regular pen?" He frowns, staring at the lid of his coffee cup but not really seeing it. "It's my fault."

"The pen?"

"You're terrible," he says, but puffs out a light chuckle anyway.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, waits for him to actually look at her to tell him, soft but firm, "It's not your fault, Diego."

Of course, she's wrong. She only thinks that because she insists on seeing the good in everyone, even Diego. But she  _is_ wrong. It was his job to protect his family. He made it his job to protect the whole city, and forgot to protect his own brother. And then, when it counted, he couldn't even get out of a stupid knot to stop Kurt from...well, from anything. Diego had been completely useless. And now he can't even get Klaus to talk.

He doesn't want to get into that with Eudora. Selfish though it may be, he doesn't want her to know his failings. The rest of the world can be disappointed in him, but not Eudora. So he makes himself smile, and it feels like a lie, but he says, "Thanks."

They can only talk for a few more minutes before Eudora has to go. Diego sits at the counter by himself for a little while after she's gone, but eventually he accepts that he can't sit in the coffee shop forever. He admits defeat and get back into his car, heads back to the Academy.

When Diego gets back to the house, Klaus is in the kitchen with Mom. He's sitting on the counter while she cooks, it looks like they're playing hangman with Klaus's notepad. Diego thinks Mom's letting him win, because he takes one look at the paper and already knows what it's meant to spell, but she's only guessed two correct letters. They're both smiling, though, and it's been a long ass time since he's seen both of those smiles in the same room together. It's kind of nice.

"E," Diego says when he walks in, pointing at the hangman.

Klaus gives him a scowl, and Mom says with some amusement, "You have to earn a vowel."

Klaus smiles at Mom and gives her a thumbs up. She flips the eggs in the frying pan onto a plate, then looks to Klaus and says, "I'd like to pay for a vowel." He shoots Diego an overdramatic frown, but when he looks back to Mom he gestures for her to go ahead. She guesses, "E."

The letter fills in one more space.

Klaus waits for Mom to turn back to the cooking to flip off Diego, and Diego returns the gesture. Somehow, although not looking, Mom knows. Because tuts and says, "Now boys..."

"Sorry Mom," Diego says, at the same time Klaus flips to a new page on his notepad and scribbles something quickly. The page he holds up in front of him says  _'sorry mom'_ with a little doodle of a frowny face next to a heart.

"Why don't you take your seats at the table? Breakfast is just about ready."

Diego offers to help her set the table, and when she insists it's not necessary he still brings the orange juice and the coffee pot over. He and Klaus take their seats as Mom rings the bell, calling for Luther and Dad. They show up not too long after they're called. It's almost funny, how the atmosphere of the room becomes instantly more tense once Dad shows up.

For the first few minutes they're all at the table, they eat in silence. Just like they always used to.

That is, until Klaus picks his notepad back up and scribbles something down hastily. When he holds it up towards Luther, Diego's able to read  _'pass the orange juice?'_ Luther just nods and reaches for the carton to pass it over, but he stops when Dad clears his throat and gestures for Luther to set the carton back down. Luther actually listens, the damn traitor. Dad hasn't even spoken yet and Diego already knows this won't be good. Once everyone's looking at him, Dad looks at Klaus and says, "This has gone on long enough, Number Four."

Klaus draws three question marks on the paper and holds that up.

"Speak," Dad says, snatching the notepad away. "We've all accommodated your childish insistence on silence for far too long. Kurt Mallari is in police custody, no harm will come to you or Number Two if you speak."

Klaus shoots a look over at Diego, then looks back at Dad.

A tense silence stretches across the room as Dad and Klaus stare each other down, one that probably feels longer than it actually is. Klaus opens his mouth like he's about to say something once, but he can't seem to make himself, because he shuts it again almost immediately. Then he shakes his head, reaches to take the notepad back. Dad keeps it out of his reach and says, "This is foolish weakness, Number Four. More than I thought even you were capable of. I won't tolerate it under my roof. If you want the notepad back, you'll have to ask for it."

"Oh, real mature, old man," Diego snaps.

"Don't take that tone with me, Number Two."

"You're gonna call Klaus childish when you, what, wanna play a game of Keep Away with--"

"This has nothing to do with you."

"Give him his damn notebook back, and I'll gladly mind my own business."

"Diego, I think Dad's right," Luther interrupts, somewhat predictably. It's funny, Diego doesn't remember asking for Luther's opinion.

"Yeah, well you can weigh in when you grow a brain of your own. Until then, butt out."

"You know, you disagree with Dad on everything just on principle, because it's him saying it. So tell me who's not using their brain?"

"Hey, it ain't my fault Dad's wrong about everything."

"Why are you even still here, Diego? Klaus has Mom and Pogo to baby him now, do you really think you're helping him with your guilt?"

Klaus throws a chunk of bacon at Luther for that, and hits him square in the nose.

"Both of you sit. Back. Down. This instant," Dad says, and Diego hadn't even realized he was standing up but he and Luther glare at each other for a few more seconds and then they do sit back down. "I won't have this uncivil behavior at my table."

Diego scoffs.

Everyone goes back to eating in silence, the only sound the tapping of their forks against the plates. After a moment, Diego reaches across the table and snatches the orange juice carton, setting it down in front of Klaus. Klaus smiles at him, but it doesn't reach his eyes. But then, it rarely does.

* * *

That night, Diego goes to leave the house again. He'll be back before morning, he certainly has no intentions of leaving Klaus to breakfast with Dad and Luther by himself. But Diego can't sleep--not in that house, not at all. He keeps dreaming about what would've happened to Klaus if Luther hadn't shown up. And Luther is a terrible person to have to feel grateful towards. So, since sleep isn't an option, he figures he can get back into the swing of his old nighttime job. Kicking ass and taking names. Well, he focuses more on the kicking ass part, but he's sure the cops who do the paperwork later figure out their names.

Despite being an adult, with his own apartment and everything, Diego finds that he still feels like he has to sneak out. Something about these walls make old habits harder to kick. He hates this house.

He's almost to the front door when he hears a floorboard creak behind him, and he turns around. Ready to defend himself to a judgmental Pogo, or pick a fight with an equally judgmental but much less likeable Luther. Instead, it's Klaus standing there. Also sneaking around. He's not following Diego, because he looks just as surprised to see Diego as Diego is to see him.

"Klaus, what the hell are you doing?"

At that, Klaus just raises an eyebrow. Either Dad hasn't returned the damn notepad yet, or Klaus knows it's too dark in the hallway for Diego to read anything he writes. But it doesn't matter, because Diego reads the question in the expression well enough without words.  _I could ask you the same question_.

And Diego's about to go on the defensive about it too (Eudora says it's his default.) Tell Klaus he doesn't have to explain himself, or something along those lines. Instead he pauses, and rethinks tonight's plan. While going out and beating up bad guys would certainly be almost therapeutic, he thinks he has an even better idea. One that'll help both of them feel better, not just Diego.

He takes a half step closer to Klaus and asks, in a whisper despite the massive size of the house making it near impossible for anyone to hear them, "Hey, are you hungry?"

Klaus frowns for a second, probably confused by the sudden subject change, then shrugs. Nods.

"Perfect, donuts are on me."

Never one to say no to free food, Klaus grins and hurries the next few steps towards the door. Diego thinks whatever painkillers he's on must be starting to wear off, because he catches Klaus wincing with the steps. It doesn't even occur to Diego until much later that Klaus must've been sneaking out to meet with a dealer.

They head to Griddy's, just like they used to when they were kids.

It's certainly quieter when it's just the two of them, especially when Diego has to do all the talking. There's less of the inevitable bickering that would happen anytime the seven of them snuck out, but truth be told it's not the bickering that Diego remembers so much. Walking the shortcut from the house to Griddy's, it's Vanya calling to them to wait up for her, after they left her behind to tie her shoes that Diego remembers. It's Luther insisting they all stay close together, and Allison telling him to lighten up. Five teleporting ahead of everyone, and then sassing them about needing to catch up. It's Ben and Klaus asking him and Luther for piggyback rides.

Okay, that last one is probably because is using his own made up version of sign language right now to ask Diego for a piggyback ride. Diego chooses to believe he agrees because of the fond memories of when they were kids, but in the back of his head, he knows the image of Klaus getting shot in the foot that's glued to his memory has something to do with it.

Once they're there, Diego orders a dozen donuts. That might be overkill for two people, but the point is to have fun like they used to when they were kids, and they always bought too many when they were kids. Besides, he thinks the weird look the waitress gives him is less about the donuts, or more about the fact that Klaus is still sitting on Diego's shoulders.

They find seats on the stools at the counter. Really they could sit wherever they want, the place is empty. Klaus gestures for Diego to pass him the napkin dispenser. When the waitress--the name on her apron says Agnes--brings over their donuts, Klaus scribbles the words  _'Thank you, beautiful'_ on one of the napkins and holds it up to her.

She seems torn between confusion or finding it charming. She must settle on the second, though, because she smiles at them and says, "You need anything else, just let me know," before she walks away.

They reminisce while they eat the donuts, and when the donuts are all almost gone Diego realizes he was right. It was too many donuts. Especially considering Diego hasn't even eaten a donut since the last time they all snuck out to Griddy's together, which must've been at least four years ago, possibly more.

But Klaus's smile was real for a little while there, so Diego thinks it's worth whatever stomach ache all that sugar brings him.

* * *

The night after that, Diego tries sneaking out again.

Again, something stops him.

This time, it's the sounds of shouting coming from down the halls. Definitely Luther's voice, but then, what else could Diego expect? But Luther would never shout at Dad or even Pogo, and Mom's charging. Which only really leaves one person for him to be yelling it. Which leaves Diego not really able to sneak out in good conscience. Dammit, why does he have to actually care so much about his stupid brother?

So he goes to save Klaus from Luther's verbal wrath. That might be the only thing Diego  _can_ save him from.

He follows the yelling towards the surgery, and from there it's pretty easy to piece together what happened. The cabinet doors are open, and Luther's clutching what looks like a bottle of oxycodone in his hand. Diego figures he snatched it from Klaus after he caught him raiding the supply of painkillers.

Klaus, in typical Klaus-fashion, shows Luther both of his middle fingers.

"This isn't a joke, Klaus," Luther answers, and ironically Diego's tempted to laugh. Until Luther says, "You know, I was hoping you had at least learned something from what happened to you and Diego, but no. You're still just as reckless--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Diego interrupts, stepping the rest of the way into the room. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Back off, Diego."

"Make me."

Luther rolls his eyes and it looks like he's actually going to try ignoring Diego, because he turns back to Klaus to start his lecture again.

"I'm sorry you got hurt, Klaus. But it's your dependence on substances like this," Luther says, holding up the bottle of pills, "That got you into that problem in the first place. You could've been killed. You could've gotten Diego killed. Does that not even register to you?"

And honestly, Diego's heard enough. He crosses the room to put himself between Luther and Klaus, shoving Luther back a step. "Are you seriously blaming him for what happened?"

"Last I checked, it was him who befriended and then stole from a known criminal, yes," Luther says. And damn, Diego didn't think even Luther could be that heartless. "I'm not saying he deserved that or anything, nobody does. But what I am saying is maybe he should be taking some responsibility--"

"He saved my life, dumbass! I think that counts as responsibility."

"He put your life in danger, Diego. He could've gotten both of you killed. And not just that. What if it had been someone else giving Klaus a ride when they decided to stage that crash? What if it had been Allison? Or  _Vanya?_ Or some civilian?"

"Shut the hell up," Diego says. Admittedly not his most eloquent comeback. "You think you're so tough, don't you, Luther? Well let me tell you something, Klaus is a helluva lot stronger than you'll ever be."

"This isn't about strength."

"No, I'm talking now," Diego says, and for once Luther shuts up. "That asshole almost killed him. And Klaus could've gotten out of that room at any time if he'd just let Kurt kill me, but he didn't. He didn't, and he almost die-He almost died, protecting  _me_. And I couldn't even get out of some stupid knot to help him. So you wanna be mad at someone? You wanna blame someone? Blame me."


	10. sober's for suckers

After that, Diego storms off.

He knows he can leave and Luther won't bother Klaus anymore, primarily because Klaus follows after him, tugging at Diego's sleeve all the way up to the front door to try to get his attention. And he feels a little bad about it, but it's not attention Diego can give right now. Because Klaus is either going to try to convince Diego it wasn't his fault, or confirm that it was. Neither option is something Diego wants to hear right now--well, see right now, given the circumstances.

"I'm sorry, Klaus," Diego says, stopping to look at him with the door halfway open. "I'm gonna go, I'll see you at breakfast, okay? Go get some rest."

Klaus gives him a face that's less than amused, and Diego's not sure if that's for telling him what to do, not stopping to have a conversation, or some mixture of both. They never were the best at silent communication. Not close enough to be, he thinks.

Diego waves goodbye and then slips out the front door, shutting it behind him. He doesn't worry about Klaus following after him. Mostly because he knows Luther still has the bottle of pills, which means Klaus isn't on any painkillers, which means he'll probably be on his feet for about thirty more seconds before he quits and goes to get either drugs or sleep. Probably both.

He should probably worry a little more about that.

Instead, he gets in his car and turns on the police radio. There's a robbery in a gas station not too far away from here, and that's good enough for him so he drives.

He gets there in time to kick some ass, and he's gone before the police actually get there. It only took about two punches but honestly, Diego feels a helluva lot better after that. Still mad and guilty and whatever other bullshit, yeah, but he feels a little less dramatic about it.

He stops a few more minor crimes, a mugging, a breaking and entering. Spends some time in his car in between, doing what Eudora would call brooding but he calls thinking. By the time he decides to go back, the sun is already starting to appear in the horizon.

The route back to the Academy, though, takes him past the Motel 8.

He can't explain why he decides to stop, pull into the parking lot and walk around back. But there's something pulling at him to see those dumpsters Kurt mentioned. The ones his brother has apparently been sleeping in, while Diego had no idea. He doesn't know what looking at them will accomplish, he just feels like he needs to see it.

It's honestly exactly what he pictured.

If he walked back here expecting some sort of revelation, there won't be one. The dumpsters are just that, dumpsters. There are two, one with the lid propped open against the wall. They look like a photo that would be put in the dictionary next to the definition of the word dumpster. Diego stares at them for a few seconds before realizing what a waste of time it was to stop here and turns to go, no closer to understanding his brother.

That is, until something on the ground catches his eye. A motion, as a rat or something runs underneath the dumpster. But when he looks he notices a piece of paper sticking out from underneath it, ever so slightly.

Diego crouches on the floor in front of it and picks up the paper, which is stapled to a pamphlet and a paper bag. "What the hell?"

When he looks closer, he sees it's a letter. Written in...Blue. Glitter. Gel. Pen. He's tempted not to read it just for that, god dammit.

But it was hidden there, in a way that anyone not looking for it would mistake it for loose trash, and yeah, Diego's curious. So even after he reads the first line and sees it's addressed to Klaus--Well it does occur to him that he shouldn't read it, he should just deliver it. But okay, he's just a little too nosey to do that.

So he reads it. Glitter and all.

_Klaus! I guess ur not here, so I'll write u this in case ur not at Kurt's either. I'm checking there next. Which you'll know if ur there. (This is Sasha, btw.) I'm outta rehab!!! And I think u'll be proud of me, I got a job as (drumroll please!) A FRICKIN TATTOO ARTIST!! They hired me, isn't it great? It's all cuz of u. Anyway, guess I gotta head over to Kurt's, see if ur there. Hope he's not too mad about the whole rehab thing, but I baked cookies so he has to forgive me, lmao. Talk soon! Can't wait to see you!! Sasha xoxo_

He folds back the letter, careful not to tear or crinkle it, to see the pamphlet it's stapled to. A leaflet for one of the local rehab programs.

Inside the paper bag are the remnants of old cookies, but the hole chewed in the bottom leads Diego to believe the rats enjoyed them more than Sasha had intended for them to.

So Diego heads back to the Academy.

His plan is to bring the letter and all it's attachments to Klaus, but when Luther stops him in the foyer he already knows it won't be that easy.

"I need to talk to you," Luther says.

"It can wait," Diego answers, brushing past him. Hey, it's worth a shot.

"No," Luther says, in typical Luther-fashion. "If I don't talk to you, Dad will. It's about Klaus."

Dammit.

"What about him?"

"Well, both of you, actually," Luther amends, now that he has Diego's attention. "Dad wanted me to tell you...Well, he thinks that if you and Klaus aren't going to be rejoining the Academy, then it's time for you to go."

Actually, Diego doesn't know why he's mad about this. Don't get him wrong, he is mad. Just not sure why. He never meant to be staying here this long anyway, and every second under this roof, quite frankly, sucked. For all intents and purposes, being asked to leave should be a blessing. And yet...

"Oh, we overstayed our welcome, did we?" Luther opens his mouth to answer that, but Diego cuts him off before he can. "And you're acting like you're doing me a favor by you telling me instead of Dad why, exactly?"

"I'm not doing  _you_ a favor," Luther says, as if the very idea is preposterous. Which, Diego supposes, it kind of is. "I just--I don't like the idea of Klaus living on the streets right now, he's still recovering--"

"So if he's healthy being homeless is fine?"

"Diego, you know I didn't say that," Luther says. "But sleeping in the trash with healing wounds is way worse than sleeping in the trash without them. That's grounds for an infection."

"Wait, wait, wait. You've known about this for how long?"

"Dad only mentioned it yesterday."

"Not that, dumbass," Diego says. "Klaus, sleeping on the streets. You and Dad knew, and you what? Just didn't care?"

"Klaus left on his own, what was I supposed to do, Diego? Besides, Dad stopped keeping tabs on him about a year and a half ago. Even I thought he'd take my help, I had no way of finding him."

Which, Diego knows, is bullshit. It's a bullshit excuse. If Luther wants to find someone he can, they have the training for finding people either missing or in hiding. Luther has access to the resources. The idea that he didn't help Klaus because finding him was too hard is even more ridiculous than the idea that Luther would do Diego a favor. Luther didn't help Klaus because he didn't care. Man, Diego misses the days he could go sun up to sun down without seeing a single member of this family.

It's a thought process which Diego articulates, rather eloquently in his opinion, "Bullshit."

Luther opens his dumb mouth and starts to offer some defense to that, or maybe an insult about Diego's maturity level, Diego doesn't know because he cuts him off again. "Hold up. Dad didn't stop spying--Yeah, it's called spying--on us a year ago. That's how you found us, Luther. Jeez, at least keep your lies straight."

"He didn't stop keeping tabs on  _you_ , no. You, Allison, and Vanya for some reason, he collects data on. Just to make sure you're okay."

"He only stopped spying on Klaus?"

"It's not spy--Y'know what, sure. Yes, he only stopped spying on Klaus."

"Why would he do that?"

"He told me..." Luther says, then stops, like he doesn't want to tell Diego. He seems to get over it, though, because he says, "He told me he didn't think Klaus was worth the resources."

"Fucking typical."

Diego doesn't know what he was else he was expecting, really. He pushes past Luther to go find Klaus, and flips Luther the bird before starting up the stairs. Of course, Mom's calling everyone to breakfast before Diego can make it to Klaus's room to talk to him.

He ditches Sasha's letter on the desk in his old room, figures he can talk to Klaus after breakfast.

"Thanks, Mom," Diego tells her when he makes it to the table.

Luther and Klaus are already sitting, Klaus attempting to balance a fork on his nose while Luther looks like he's about to combust keeping himself from telling Klaus to knock it off. Diego's almost tempted to join Klaus's silverware circus, if only to piss off Luther.

"My pleasure," she says. "Enjoy, boys."

"Wait, where's Dad?" Luther asks.

"Your father has some other business to attend to."

Which is all she tells them on the subject, and all Diego cares to hear. Luther seems a little confused, maybe offended he's not included in this 'other business,' but Diego's content to hear they'll finally be having a breakfast without Dad. He knows he's only been staying in this house a little over a week, but it feels like ages. Although, he figures that won't be a problem for much longer.

"Awesome," Diego says.

Luther only gives him a moderately disapproving look before moving on, asking, "Did you talk to him yet?"

Deliberately vague. Luther's probably hoping that, if Diego hasn't talked to Klaus yet, Klaus will assume they're talking about Dad. Either way, it's incredibly dense of Luther to ask. He should know Diego hasn't had time to talk to Klaus between their last conversation and now.

"Nope."

"Okay, well you have to before dinner."

What an amazing amount of notice they've given him. Diego rolls his eyes and picks up his fork, saying, "I'll talk to him. Will you shut up and eat?"

"Talk to who?" Klaus asks.

"Oh, just more of Dad being stu--" Diego starts, cutting himself off when it hits him what he just heard. That was Klaus's voice. Kind of quiet, and kind of scratchy from disuse, but Klaus's voice for sure. Diego drops his fork and turns to look at Klaus, blinking. He points a finger at him and, almost like a child pointing at any four legged animal and calling it a puppy, "You just talked."

"Hadn't noticed," Klaus says, like this is some kind of joke. And Diego can't even call him an asshole for it, because Klaus just talked again. That's two times.

Mom smiles and puts a hand on Klaus's shoulder, telling him, "Just like we worked on. See? Nothing bad happens when you talk."

"Debatable," Luther murmurs under his breath, so Diego throws a napkin at him.

Klaus either doesn't hear it or doesn't care. He takes a sip of his coffee--well, it's more sugar than coffee at this point--and when he sets it down Diego must still be staring at him, because he says, "If you guys are gonna look at me like that I can stop talking again."

"Sorry," Diego mutters. If he's honest, he never thought he'd see the day where he was this excited to hear his idiot brother's voice.

"Hold on," Luther says. "You could just talk this whole time? What was with the notepad and the charades, is this some kind of a game to you?"

"Game? No, I just..." Klaus starts, trailing off.

Not that Klaus owes them an explanation in the slightest, but Diego's not sure he has one. What Diego is sure of is that Luther's approach to asking for one is lacking in tact, to say the least. He wonders how Luther expects to eat any of the breakfast on his plate, what with his foot so stuck in his mouth and all. Klaus frowns and shoots a look at Mom before looking at Diego, silently asking for an answer. It hurts, that neither of them have one.

For a second, Diego worries Klaus is about to stop talking again. Way to go, Luther. But then Klaus looks at an empty space over Luther's shoulders. He shrugs then clears his throat and says, "Well, he did say it was a game. But I think games are actually supposed to be fun. Like Monopoly...Oh, that's a bad example."

Diego smacks his shoulder, but lightly. "I was worried about you, you idiot."

"Sorry," Klaus says.

"Would anyone like some more coffee?" Mom asks.

After breakfast, Diego doesn't tell Klaus that Dad wants them to leave. Instead, he tells Klaus that he's leaving, and offers the foldout couch in his apartment. Klaus accepts readily enough; he hates the house about as much as Diego, after all. Klaus probably only stayed as long as he did because he had nowhere else to go. And having a roof to sleep under must've been nice, after Diego doesn't even know how long of sleeping underneath the lid of a dumpster.

Klaus is still a little quieter than usual on the drive to Diego's apartment. His leg bounce with a nervous energy whenever he does say something, enough that sometimes the car bounces ever so slightly. Normally, that might annoy Diego. Instead he takes it as a win and decides not to comment. If it helps Klaus keep talking, it helps Diego stay sane.

"Home sweet home," Diego says, unbuckling his seatbelt. Then, "Before we go in, there was something I wanted to show you."

"Ooooh, for me?" Klaus asks, clapping his hands when Diego grabs Sasha's letter from the backseat where he stashed it. The smile falters on Klaus's face when Diego hands it to him, and he looks at the paper for a second before looking back at Diego. "What is this?"

"I was driving past the Motel 8 this morning and I found it," Diego says, leaving out the part where he deliberately stopped at the Motel 8. "Just read it."

So he does.

They sit in a different kind of silence for a moment, while Klaus reads and then rereads the letter. Diego watches Klaus's expression go from mournful to a smile, then back to mournful. And he won't comment on it, because he can at least give Klaus that, but he does catch the tears rolling down his cheeks. Once he's done with the letter he flips it over to look at the pamphlet it's stapled to and lets out a wry chuckle.

"Rehab," he says, wiping a tear away.

"That paper bag did have cookies in it, but they were...beyond saving," Diego tells him. "Turns out rats like chocolate chip."

"She was always a terrible baker anyway," Klaus says, frowning down at the paper bag. He shakes his head, then goes to reread the letter a third time. His voice cracks ever so slightly when he says, "She got a job."

Diego says, kind of a question, "She really cared about you, huh?"

"Yeah, that was her first mistake," Klaus says, with a faint laugh and the tone of someone telling a joke. But the look in his eyes and the teartracks on his cheeks tell a different story.

* * *

It's a conversation that makes it even more heartbreaking when, about three days later, Diego comes home to find Klaus snorting coke off of his kitchen table with the rolled up rehab pamphlet.

Diego drops the paper grocery bags he'd been carrying on the counter, kicking the door shut behind him. Even with the door slamming, Klaus doesn't seem to notice he's back. That, or he doesn't particularly care at present. Diego greets him with a, "Klaus, what the hell are you doing?"

"Is that a trick question?"

The little shit, he actually laughs. Diego crosses the room and snatches the pamphlet away from him--not that it'll do any good, almost all of the substance is already  _in_ Klaus, but whatever. He waves the paper in front of Klaus and says, "This is a rehab pamphlet."

"It's poetic," Klaus answers, moving to sit on top of the table.

"It's poe--" Diego starts to repeat, breathing out a heavy sigh. "It's not poetic, it's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"Real mature."

Not that Diego can talk, he's seriously considering balling up this pamphlet and throwing it at Klaus. He's not even mad about Klaus choosing to get high in his apartment, which he should be because, if anyone found out, that's something Diego could also get in trouble for. But he is mad, about...well, he can't articulate exactly why he's mad, but he is. And he knows he has good reason to be.

In the end, Diego does wad up the pamphlet and throw it at Klaus. It bounces off his forehead and onto the floor, accomplishing exactly what it accomplished when Klaus used it to snort drugs. Which is nothing.

"Where'd you even get the money for that shit?"

"I didn't steal it from you, if that's what you're asking," Klaus says, which Diego only believes because his wallet was in his pocket when he went to get groceries just now, and everything was there. "Money's not the only way to pay for things, y'know."

"Klaus, tell me you didn--"

"You're such a prude, Diego," he interrupts, which more or less confirms it. Klaus shifts so that he's sitting cross legged on the table, and Diego spends a little too long staring at the scar on his foot, remembering how it got there. He only snaps out of it when Klaus says, "Besides, I don't think it counts if I would've slept with her anyway. This--" he pulls a little baggie of some god damn pills out of his pocket and waves it around "--was just icing on the cake."

Diego snatches the bag out of Klaus's hand. Really, he was asking for that one, waving it around like that. He holds it just out of Klaus's reach and says,  _"This_ is not what Sasha would've wanted for you. And you know it."

"That's not fair," Klaus says, before turning around quickly to look at Diego's couch while he adds, "This has nothing to do with you, butt out."

"You're getting high in my apartment, it has something to do with me," Diego says, but Klaus ignores him in favor of grabbing for the bag of pills. All Diego really has to do to keep it away from him is step back, and then Klaus leans too far forward trying to grab it and falls off of the table. "Hey. She could get sober, so can you."

"Yeah, just look at where it got her."

Klaus moves to get up off the floor, then seems to accept it as his new space and lays down, sprawling out across the tiles and folding his arms behind his head. He laughs, despite nothing being remotely funny, and announces, "Sober's for suckers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, this was supposed to be the last chapter but i'm bad at planning. so Next chapter will be the last one (i think)  
> anyway, thanks for all your continued support! ily all! <3


	11. make a little birdhouse in your soul

Over the course of the next week, Diego and Klaus take turns waking each other up from nightmares. Diego has to work on not going into fight mode when someone wakes him up--he's almost punched Klaus three times--and Klaus has to work on not falling out of the fucking bed. Yes, Diego let Klaus have the bed. He's sleeping on the couch in his own apartment. Because he's a good brother, thanks for nothing, Luther.

Neither of them are the best at falling back asleep after those dreams, but they deal with it in vastly different, if equally unhealthy, ways.

Some nights, Diego leaves and finds a crime to stop. Some nights, the bad dreams and the images they hold make it a little too hard for him to be willing to leave Klaus unprotected in his apartment, so Diego just does pushups on the floor in the living room until he's tired enough to go back to sleep. Sometimes while he's doing them, Klaus sits on his back and makes stupid comments. It almost makes him feel better, actually. Not that he's telling Klaus that.

"You think you're so strong now, but how many pushups could you do if I was, like, incredibly fat?"

"You have a fat mouth, does that count?"

"Very funny. No, I'm talking rotund. Real plump. How many pushups?"

"I can't say I've tested it," Diego answers, shaking his head.

He hears the flicking of a lighter as Klaus lights a joint. That's how he deals with the nightmares. More fucking drugs. Tonight, Diego doesn't comment.

It's not that he doesn't care. It's just that right now he's too tired, or too busy trying to become tired, to have the same conversation over again. He tells Klaus not to do drugs, Klaus does drugs. It's a never ending cycle. And Klaus hasn't healed enough for Diego to be comfortable kicking him out for it or dropping him of at a rehab or anything like that. Besides, he knows it's selfish, but it really does help him sleep after the nightmares. Klaus being around.

After a few seconds Klaus asks, "Did you always have this much trouble sleeping?"

Diego doesn't take the second to register the faint hint of guilt hiding behind the curiosity in Klaus's voice. He just answers on the default defensive, "Did you?"

Klaus hums.

He's too laid back to be bothered by Diego's prickly exterior, most of the time. That might be the drugs, though...

"Not always," Diego answers, after a second. He's not new to having nightmares, not even new to having nightmares about a sibling being in danger. But he hasn't had them in a long time. Every now and then, sure, but it hasn't been this bad since he lived at the Academy.

"Sorry."

Which is when Diego decides he's done doing pushups. "Get off'a me."

Klaus climbs off Diego's back a little less than gracefully, sitting down on the floor a few inches away. Diego pushes himself up into a sitting position as well, and now that he can actually look at his dumb idiot brother he asks, "What the hell are you saying you're sorry for?"

"I ate your last muffin," Klaus says, and then, "I got you kidnapped by a psycho with bad hair, and he tried to kill you and now you can't sleep and I stole your bed. Duh! Why the hell d'you think I'm saying I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, that would make perfect sense, if any of that was your fault, dumbass."

"Don't insult me, I'm trying to apologize, you bitch."

"Yeah, you're apologizing for a ton of shit that you didn't do. Who kidnapped us? Kurt. Who tried to kill us? Kurt. Who chose that hair for him? Kurt. To me, that sounds like none of those were your decisions."

Sure, one could argue that getting involved with Kurt in the first place was Klaus's decision. One could argue that Klaus shouldn't have stolen from anyone, especially a known criminal. One should argue Klaus needs to go to rehab. But Diego can't argue any of that. Not when he feels like  _he_ should be the one apologizing to  _Klaus_ right now, instead of the other way around. Apologizing for being a shit brother, and not knowing Klaus needed help. Apologizing for not getting them out of there sooner. Apologizing for who knows what else.

But this is kind of new territory for them. They weren't raised to know how to apologize to each other, really. And that might be messed up, but Diego's not letting Klaus start now, with an apology he doesn't even owe.

Diego sighs. "Klaus, the only reason you would have to apologize to me is if you weren't joking about the muffin thing."

"About that..."

* * *

Klaus stays with Diego up until the trial.

It's easier than Diego thought it would be, to get re-accustomed to not living on his own. Klaus makes a few more attempts at cooking eggs before Diego suggests that Klaus leaves the cooking to him. It's just that, well, he likes his apartment not coated in smoke. But Klaus helps with the dishes without complaining, which Diego's grateful for, because he's always really hated touching wet food. It's weird.

On the day of Kurt's trial, Klaus stands outside the courthouse and pops some pills. He's not even looking at Diego when he says, "Shut up."

"You really gotta do that right now?" Diego asks, honestly more disappointed than surprised. "I mean, fuck that shit not being good for you. We're at a courthouse. You do see how many cops are here, right?"

"You shut up, too."

Diego huffs and brushes past Klaus to walk up to Eudora, who's talking to some lady in a suit a few feet away. She looks up and spots Diego, then says something else to the suit lady before meeting Diego halfway. She greets him with a quick kiss on the cheek, then asks, "How are you?"

He shrugs. It's as good of an answer as he can think of.

Eudora nods, like she understands completely. "Okay, how's your brother?"

"High."

"Seriously?" It's Diego's turn to nod. Eudora rolls her eyes, then says, "He does know we're at a trial to lock up his dealer, right? I mean, what the hell is he thinking?"

"Sometimes, I wish I knew. Sometimes, I'm glad I don't."

"I'll bet."

Then they're called in to take their seats for the trial. Diego and Klaus, at least, get seats next to each other. When the courthouse guards walk Kurt in, there's a course of murmurs from the room, most of which Diego tries not to hear. Kurt winks at them as he walks towards the defense table, and Diego and Klaus both flip him off. Eudora gives him an unamused look for it, but whatever, it's worth it.

The prosecutor, the lady Eudora had been talking with outside the courthouse, gives an opening statement, which is long and winding and makes Diego glad he's not a cop. He can't imagine having to sit through shit like this on the regular.

Then the defense gives their opening statement, equally long and only less boring because it does a pretty good job of pissing Diego the fuck off.

Over the course of the trial, Diego learns three things. 1) Criminal trials are boring and repetitive things, not at all as exciting as the movies make them out to be. 2) Lawyers like to use big words, he thinks they think it makes them sound smart. Klaus keeps leaning over to ask Diego what some of said words mean, and sometimes Diego only pretends to know. And 3) Kurt Mallari is terrible at behaving like an innocent man.

When one of the attorneys asks Kurt if he has any regret over what he did, he answers that his only regret is, "Not killing the little slut when I had the chance." Diego swears he's not even trying. Dumbass.

In the end, Kurt gets twenty years with no chance at probation. And there's still the trial for Sasha's murder, which won't be for another two months.

Diego thought seeing Kurt get put away would make him feel better than it does. Justice being served, or whatever. In the end, he just feels the same. Guilty, angry, and a ton of other bullshit he was hoping to be rid of.

* * *

But Klaus can't live with Diego forever.

There's a lot of reasons this is true, not the least of which being that Diego can't afford for Klaus to live with him forever. He was barely paying rent already, and Klaus doesn't exactly have the biggest appetite in the world, but he also can't pitch in for grocery money. It's another cost that Diego doesn't have the money for, but he stills feels just a little bit too guilty to even think about bringing it up to Klaus.

Then there's reason number two. The asshole won't stop doing drugs in Diego's living room.

And yea, Klaus's addictions are a problem no matter where he is. But now he's doing it in Diego's apartment, which means if the police do decide to do something about it, he'll inadvertently be dragging Diego down with him. Not to mention, his landlord has a policy about that in the damn lease--not that most of the other tenants make a point to obey that policy, but with Diego's luck, he'll be the one the landlord decides to crack down on for it. And that'll leave both of them homeless.

They have a few conversations about that one, most of which result in Klaus agreeing not to get high in the apartment at least, and then breaking that agreement in record time.

Diego's going back and forth between wondering if he should kick Klaus out--obviously he won't just toss him onto the streets. No, he'll make him go to rehab. Or pawn him off on Vanya for awhile, she has an apartment in town and she's such a pushover she'll probably agree--and feeling guilty for thinking about kicking Klaus out, when Klaus swings the apartment door open with his usual dramatic flair, and drops down onto the couch next to Diego.

"I have some news for you, brother mine," Klaus says, propping his bare feet up on Diego's coffee table. Where are his shoes?

"Is this the kind of news I wanna hear?"

"You're such an optimist, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Just shut up and tell me your news."

"I can't do both."

"I should kick your ass."

"But you won't," Klaus lilts, and just for that Diego smacks him in the back of the head. Klaus elbows him in the ribs in return, then gets up and sprints around the coffee table before Diego can retaliate. "My excellent news, Diego, is that you can have your bed back."

Diego frowns. "What're you talking about?"

"I don't need to stay in your apartment anymore," Klaus says, tone very matter of fact, like it's obvious.

Which technically it is, but Diego's still confused. He knows Klaus doesn't have a place to stay, and he hasn't said anything to Klaus, so he can't figure out why Klaus is deciding to leave. Not to mention, where he's deciding to leave to. Diego says, "Where will you go?"

Klaus waves a hand, as if waving the question away. "Don't worry about it."

Briefly, Diego wonders if that phrase has ever been used in a conversation and not made the person its said to worry more. So he repeats, "Klaus, where will you go?"

"Will you chillax? I'm just gonna stay with a friend for a bit."

"Oh."

Diego wonders if he's supposed to argue or ask more questions. Something he learned when he realized he hasn't been a very good brother to Klaus, he doesn't entirely know how a good brother is supposed to act. He doubts Klaus has a big number of trustworthy or reputable friends, but he also knows he can't have Klaus staying with him for very much longer. And staying with a friend  _is_ better than on the streets....

He sighs and decides to ask, "This friend isn't like Kevin, is he?"

"No way," Klaus says, like that's a ridiculous comparison. "This guy's gracefully tall, and Kevin's freakishly short."

"Klaus, I'm being serious."

"So am I! You saw those stumpy legs."

"Why are you like this?"

Which is the end of their conversation on that, because it just devolves into more jokes after that.

Klaus hangs around for a little while, eats some of the pizza Diego orders without complaint. He's glad they can at least agree on one thing: pineapple on pizza is an atrocity. But eventually, Klaus gets up to leave, meet up with whoever this friend is. It's kind of weird, to think he won't be coming back later. They've been roommates for what feels like such a long time.

He's halfway out the door when Diego stops him. "Hey, Klaus?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time you want pancakes," Diego says, not entirely sure why he's thinking about back when Klaus stole his wallet now, but he is. "Just ask."

For a second, he thinks Klaus might not even remember what he's talking about. But then he cracks a smile and says, "You're gonna regret telling me that."

* * *

It's funny, over the next few weeks, things basically return to normal.

It's not like Diego forgets, and he can't say he's entirely moved on. But the nightmares do start to lighten up, and he does get re-accustomed to living by himself. Falls back into his old routine of meeting Eudora for coffee every other morning. His personal favorite, though, is not sleeping on his own couch anymore.

Which isn't to say that he doesn't think about Klaus anymore. He couldn't if he tried.

They don't stay in touch, not like normal siblings do.

But Diego almost has a heart attack every time someone mentions a dead junkie over his police scanner, finds himself checking out the scene every time just to make sure it's not Klaus. He also carries some extra snacks in his car, in case he does bump into Klaus somewhere, because he knows Klaus doesn't worry about food nearly enough. Which is why Diego also passive aggressively staples more rehab pamphlets, or printed out maps with directions to rehab centers, to the packaging of whatever snack he gives to Klaus.

And when Diego takes up boxing matches to get some extra cash, Klaus always shows up to his fights, to cheer him on.

It's kind of nice, having someone (figuratively) in his corner.

And maybe healing hasn't always been their strong suit, but over time they start to.

* * *

Diego reflects on this while sitting in a booth across from Klaus at some twenty-four hour diner, where Klaus is cashing in on Diego's pancake promise. They bumped into each other in an alley, which really ought to happen more often considering each of their nighttime activities, and somehow ended up at the diner.

"You still staying with that friend of yours?" Diego asks, once they both have a plate of pancakes in front of them.

"Nah, he got sick of me like a week ago," Klaus says, laughing. "Totally unrelated note, but did you know when people talk about a waffle iron, it's a whole separate tool? You don't iron them with the shirt iron."

"Did you...Did you try to make waffles with a clothing iron?"

"Instead I made fire."

Is it bad if Diego's first thought is that he's glad Klaus didn't try that in  _his_ apartment? Diego thinks he should be telling Klaus what a horrible decision that was, irresponsible or dangerous or whatever. Instead he finds himself trying not to laugh--which is fine, because presumably, Klaus's friend already told him what a horrible decision that was. "I'm so glad every time you tried to cook at my place it was just eggs or bacon."

"Ha, he still doesn't know about the pasta problem."

"What pasta problem?"

Klaus blinks. "I said that out loud, huh? Moving on! How's crime fighting?"

Diego thinks about pressing for the pasta story, then figures his apartment is still standing, so whatever it was it can't have been that bad. So he lets Klaus change the subject, and tells him about the guy who tried to rob the gas station with a chainsaw, but forgot to put any gas in said chainsaw.

They actually sit and talk for a couple of hours, long after the food on their plates is gone.

When they do finally go their separate ways, Diego walks back towards his apartment humming a song he didn't even know he knew. Trying to remember where he heard it before, he hums under his breath, "Make a little birdhouse in your soul..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i've never been the best at endings, but i hope i did alright XD  
> thanks so much to everyone who read and commented!! <3


End file.
